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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28907781">ALLUVION</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainberries/pseuds/rainberries'>rainberries</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Action/Adventure, Alternate Ending, Edited by the best beta-reader everrr, Ex-Nomad V, F/M, Following the River, I Fought the Law, Johnny being a little shit, Novelization, Re-Telling, River appreciation, Romance, Slow Burn, The Hunt, There's hope for V, With photos</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 11:07:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>32,871</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28907781</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainberries/pseuds/rainberries</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>He was a badge. She was a merc. He was ice. She was fire. Never expected them to fit together like the last two pieces of a fuckin' jigsaw puzzle. Yet, somehow they did. Un-fucking-believable. Samurai, could 'ya pour bleach into my eyes so I don't gotta witness this shit firsthand? Thanks.</p><div class="center">
  <p>◾◾◾<br/>A novelization of V and River's storyline, with a sprinkle of Johnny Silverhand's side-commentary. Weekly updates.</p>
  <div class="center"></div>
</div>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Female V/River Ward, V/River Ward</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>69</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>58</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. I Fought The Law</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>  </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>◾1: I FOUGHT THE LAW◾</strong>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Wind brushed against V’s eyelashes, gentle yet insistent enough to tickle her. Instinctively, she squeezed her eyes shut, more than ready to slip back into the uneventful land of sleep—a luxury she saw stripped away from her more and more as days went on.</p><p>But before the tension on her forehead could once again melt away, the sudden sharpness of smoke bit at her nostrils and clawed at her lungs as soon as she next inhaled. It jerked her awake despite her will to stay asleep, causing an itchy cough to climb up her throat in a way all too familiar. Tobacco—a smell far too distinctive to leave even a shred of doubt, even though it was nothing but a sad construct from her brain.</p><p>“Fucking finally.”</p><p>Johnny’s voice confirmed her suspicions before she even had to open her eyes, and V groaned as she waved a hand to clear the smoke from her face.</p><p>Halfheartedly cracking an eye open, V couldn’t suppress the frown that painted itself onto her face—funny, she’d never considered herself the artsy type. Having a terrorist live rent free in your head will do that to you, she supposed.</p><p>“If I may ask,” she croaked, her voice feigning civility and dripping with toxins. “Why the hell are you up puffing that shit in my face?”</p><p>Johnny rolled his eyes behind his shades—she didn’t need to see it to be able to tell, disturbingly enough—and shifted his weight onto his other foot, looking down at her from where he was standing. His frame glitched just enough for V to remember he wasn’t really there. Not in flesh and bones, anyway. And neither was the cigarette smoke she’d sworn to have just inhaled.</p><p> “Get off your high horse, V. Needed you to wake up.”</p><p>“And...why exactly?” An attempt to move had V’s attention promptly flicked back to her unnatural position, then to her surroundings; the dry dirt beneath her ass, the motorcycle she’d used as a makeshift headrest, the stiffness when she tried to roll her neck, the sun rising over the badlands, the distant sight of the Sunset Motel—barely visible behind the rows of palm trees and power lines. “Oh.”</p><p>Johnny took an unnecessarily long drag from his cigarette, discarding it to the ground and suffocating its fire beneath the sole of his boot. “Yeah, <em> oh </em>.” He crossed his arms and regarded her in a way evocative of reprimand. “How ‘bout sleeping in a bed every now and then, huh? I’ve been feelin’ that goddamn pinched nerve in your neck for the past three hours.”</p><p>As if emphasizing his point, V heard the sound of crepitus grinding in her neck as soon as she turned her head. She suppressed a hiss at the pain, but the reality of last night’s events dawned on her and severely outweighed the physical discomfort.</p><p>Hellman, who had crushed any hope she had of finding a way to remove the biochip.</p><p>Takemura, who had taken over the interrogation.</p><p>The relic malfunction that had forced her to her knees, struggling for consciousness.</p><p>Rubbing the nape of her neck, V stifled a grimace and tried to ignore the dread rising up her chest, without much success.</p><p>“Shit,” she exhaled through tight lips. “You can feel that?”</p><p>Instead of replying with a witty or hostile remark of his own, Johnny stayed silent. Probably keenly aware of everything that statement alone implied. Probably had been for a while.</p><p>Silver lining; he decided not to be a dick about it, for once.</p><p>“Afraid so.”</p><p>Releasing her hold on her cervical flexors, V breathed a heavy sigh and brought her sore legs to her chest before pushing herself off the ground. She stretched out her arms, her groan coming out a little strangled as she felt the muscles protest, then brushed the dust off her pants.</p><p>“Fuck. Remind me not to fall asleep like that ever again.”</p><p>His unsatisfied snort met her expectations, but the words that followed lacked creativity. Honestly, she had anticipated a far sharper comeback. “What am I now, your fucking baby-sitter?”</p><p>V didn’t even bother to hide her smirk.</p><p>“Well,” she shrugged off her jacket and stripped off her shirt, digging into the stash of her Kusanagi CT-3X for a clean top that didn’t smell like sweat or the aftermath of explosives. “Considering how your method for waking me up has considerably toned down, I’d say you’re definitely gettin’ soft, Johnny.”</p><p>The last thing she saw before pulling a fresh tank top over her head was Johnny visibly biting away at the inside of his cheek. “Fuck you. And while you’re at it, shove somethin’ down your throat. I’m fuckin’ starved.”</p><p>Just as he mentioned it, V’s stomach whined, putting emphasis on its bare emptiness. When was the last time she’d eaten anything? Yesterday? Nah. Jesus, she couldn’t even remember.</p><p>Not like the blame fell solely on her. She hadn’t gone home in a few days and hadn’t had time to catch a proper breather, what with helping Panam get her merch back, then taking a detour to off Nash. Not to mention the whole sabotage mission with Kang Tao in order to catch Hellman. In hindsight, what a real treat that had been.</p><p>V closed the trunk of her vehicle with a dull thud, slipping her arms into the sleeves of a weathered leather jacket. She swung a leg over the seat, quickly checking her software for any missed calls or unread messages when suddenly, her unavoidable predicament jumped at her like a rabid dog.</p><p>“Shit,” she cursed, dropping her hands from the throttle.</p><p>“What now?” </p><p>V dug her hands into her pockets, hoping to land on something edible, or at the bare minimum, consumable. “‘Kinda slipped my mind how I willingly threw 15K of my fuckin’ eddies at Rogue.” Her fingers grazed a plastic wrapper and she pulled it out to reveal a half-empty pack of Synthsnack in all its glory; edges rolled up and lettering fading away from friction.</p><p>Johnny clicked his tongue, the sound arid and implying he was now all around bored with this conversation. “So in other words, you’re shit-broke?”</p><p>“Pretty much,” V replied under her breath, holding up the sad Synthsnack package for analysis. “How old do you think this bad boy is?”</p><p>The look Johnny gave her didn’t leave much up for interpretation. “I’ve eaten my fair share of junk back in the day, but even I wouldn’t touch that crap, V.” He turned on his heels, flicking his finger into the air. “Unless ‘ya feel like puking your guts out again.”</p><p>And on that note, he disappeared, retreating to god-knows-where in some aphotic corner of her fucked up mind.</p><p>Delightful.</p><p>Shoving the package back in her pocket with a frustrated sigh, V turned on her bike’s ignition and adjusted her favorite baseball cap on her head, leaving a few untamed locks of hair to hang freely around her eyes.</p><p>Turned out, hunting for free scraps wasn’t that hard of a job when waist-deep in the heart of Red Peak. With a grand total of six minutes spent riding through the lands before she found a busted vending machine rotting away by an abandoned truck stop, V figured she struck luck when she managed to land on an intact package of dairy-free grilled cheese sandwich—minus the ‘grilled’ part. With a safe expiry date just shy of eight months, she didn’t think twice before tearing into the plastic wrapping and digging her teeth into the unpalatable chunk of bread.</p><p>Ah, nothing quite like the taste of home. Granted, she probably would’ve spat it out if it hadn’t been from the exigent rumbling of her upset stomach. Regardless, knowing Johnny was most likely sulking up there, rambling on and on about how the Night City culinary experience had reached the title of ‘execrable’ made the whole experience a tad more enjoyable.</p><p>Who knew there actually was something worse than sixty-five cent instant ramen?</p><p>The warmth of the morning sun hit its apex as V sped on the highway, embracing the irreplaceable feel of the wind slapping her cheeks. Thoughts of last night threatened to come forth and climb the barrier she had constructed for herself, but she made sure to push them away by filling her mind with the next steps of her plan.</p><p>It seemed that she and Johnny had found themselves at a bit of a dead end on their search for chip-related intel. For now, Takemura was handling it. She was supposed to wait for his call before pursuing a new lead—not that there even was any lead to investigate— but that didn’t mean she’d be sitting on her ass while flipping through TV channels. There were better things to do. There were always better things to do.</p><p>Trying to convince herself that their chase against time could be temporarily put on hold, V drove forward without looking back, mapping out the next details in her head. Priority right now was finding side-jobs and bringing in some eddies, what with her dead-dry credchip waving at her, always hovering in the background like a goddamn netrunner sucking the fun straight out of a party. </p><p>V scrolled through her list of contacts as she took the exit to Rancho Coronado, wavering between Dakota and Wakako’s names when the sudden beep of an incoming call caught her by surprise.</p><p>She squinted at the name while keeping an eye on the traffic ahead of her.</p><p>Elizabeth Peralez.</p><p>Peralez… Why did that ring a bell?</p><p>With her curiosity piqued, V answered the call at the third ring.</p><p>“Hello?”</p><p>The other end was quiet for a second or two. “Hello, we haven’t met. I’m Elizabeth.” The rest came through like a rehearsed line. “My husband and I...we need a somewhat delicate matter handled. And we heard you could help.”</p><p>Not that the woman could see it, having disabled her facial recognition cam a long time ago, but V arched a brow at the oddity. A potential client reaching out to her directly instead of going through a fixer, huh. ‘Suppose there was a first to everything.</p><p>“Mind my askin’ who your husband is?” V replied, notes of both interest and doubt lacing her voice. “Actually, who’re you?”</p><p>This time, the woman’s tone didn’t sound nearly as robotic as it did before, and V relaxed on her seat, a little relieved despite the dismissive answer that followed. “I...I’d rather not discuss details over the phone. Please, meet with us. We’ll explain everything.” A pause. “As I said, it’s a rather delicate matter.”</p><p>It took V no more than a scarce moment to consider this client. Married, courteous, well-spoken in a way you just didn’t find roaming the streets of NC, and certainly not in any financial hell-hole, from the looks of it.</p><p>That being said, there were even more reasons to be wary of corpos. Whether that pertained to Elizabeth or not, now that remained to be determined.</p><p>“What’s so delicate about the matter?”</p><p>Elizabeth audibly hesitated. “I’d rather discuss that in person, if you don’t mind.” A queasy inhale on the other end. “Can we meet?”</p><p>Thinking back to her empty pockets, V debated over the matter faster than it took to snake through the hurdle of cars blocking her way to Night City. Still, she wouldn’t let her guard down easily.</p><p>“Alright, let’s do that.”</p><p>Elizabeth’s answer was short and, dare she say, borderline rushed. As though in a hurry to end the call. “I’ll send you the address. See you soon.”</p><p>The coordinates came through as soon as the call ended. V adjusted her GPS to the new destination, the tires of her bike scraping against the dry asphalt as she picked up speed.</p><p> </p><p>✕</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“<em>Sure hope you know what you’re walkin’ into, V. </em>”</p><p>Johnny’s leery tone resonated within the confines of V’s mind as soon as she stepped foot into the vacant parking lot, making her hand twitch in response. If there was one thing she didn’t need, it was Johnny making her unnecessarily tense in moments like these. She was the judge over her own body, for fuck’s sake.</p><p>“<em>Relax, Johnny. It’s not like I don’t have a knife or a fuckin’ pistol glued to my hip. </em>”</p><p>Ignoring the unsatisfied jeer he snapped back, V sharpened her vision and zeroed-in on the black car sitting in the middle of the alley, standing out like a sore thumb. A man stood close, too close for irrelevance; the gear he wore giving away his role a little too easily. Cap, ear-piece that tethered him to his duty, clean-cut bullet-proof shirt—bodyguard, no doubt.</p><p>He returned the gesture and briefly studied her from head to toe. “V?” </p><p>V nodded once, to which the guard motioned toward the black car. “Please, step in the vehicle.”</p><p>“<em>Preem </em> . <em> Because that shouldn’t raise any red flags. </em>” </p><p>Making sure to fight back the words threatening to spill out in order to shut Johnny up, V turned to the back door, a little hesitant.</p><p>“Uh—okay…”</p><p>After she opened the door and dropped into the back seat, she was instantly greeted by a man sitting by the tinted window. It was clear he was none other than Elizabeth’s husband, judging by the near identical suit he wore. The wrinkles pulling at his skin betrayed his age—early to mid-forties, to take a guess— and the experience in his eyes was striking at first glance and indubitable. Still, they weren’t the eyes of a cold-blooded monster, and for now, that would prove to be enough.</p><p>“Hello, V. I’m Jefferson Peralez.” He reached out for a handshake, which she returned out of nothing but mindless manners—her thoughts having already latched on to his name and jumping far ahead.</p><p>Jefferson Peralez.</p><p>It suddenly clicked. The name, the face, the electoral campaign boards all over Night City.</p><p>This was Jefferson Peralez, the mayoral candidate.</p><p>“<em>A corpo-opposin’ politician, huh. Well, I’ll be damned. Don’t fuck this up, V. </em>”</p><p>V narrowed her eyes instinctively. “<em> Weren’t you the one tellin’ me to delta out not even a minute ago? </em>”</p><p>Peralez carried on, perfectly undisturbed—yet another reminder that the conversation endlessly going on in her head was but a curse meant only for her, unbeknownst to the rest of the world.</p><p>“You’ve already spoken with my wife,” he motioned to the woman in the front seat. “Elizabeth.”</p><p>Shoving Johnny’s intrusion to the abyss of her mind, V offered a polite dip of her chin in return. “Nice to meet you both, Mr and Mrs Peralez.”</p><p>Jefferson’s eyebrows arched and the corner of his lips pulled up ever so slightly, mirroring that of his wife as he briefly met her eyes in a silent, pleasantly satisfied accord. Something told V those two had a relationship that traveled far beyond words.</p><p>That interaction alone felt like starting off business on the right foot, and V allowed herself to relax in her seat, her weight digging into the leather material and providing comfort that could put Dexter DeShawn’s former ride to shame. Hoping she wouldn’t be overstepping her bounds, V decided to throw caution to the wind and asked the question that’d been burning her lips.</p><p>“Peralez... ‘That the one running for mayor?”</p><p>Elizabeth turned to her husband, squaring her shoulders and smiling at him with what V could only label as a modest swell of pride. Jefferson, once again, returned her smile before addressing V.</p><p>“The one.” He confirmed and his expression veiled itself behind a cloud; solemnity overtaking his features. “I gather you now understand why discretion is of the utmost importance.”</p><p>That irreplaceable thrill—the one you get when you know you’ve come face to face with an exciting job that’s actually worth the time you pour into it—settled itself at the surface, stirring up her earnest interest until it sparked into brighter flames. V smiled, a little crooked.</p><p>She wouldn’t consider herself a culture leech, but it was hard to ignore governmental gossips, even as an ex-nomad with counted days, when it was blasted in the N54 news 24/7. Peralez, formerly a district attorney, had recently become a member of the City Council. Now a mayoral candidate, he was known amongst the population for his idealistic view and ambitious promises to turn things for the people of Night City, particularly for the most unfortunate majority. Criticized and derogated by most corpo goons and big money-holders in town for his peculiar ideals, Peralez opposed the absolute control of large corporations, not to point any fingers at Arasaka, over the city’s government. </p><p>A quality many in her entourage praised to the lord and back. Had he been alive to see it, Jackie might’ve creamed his pants right about now.</p><p>Johnny probably was, although V preferred not to dwell on that image, and stuck to hoping this whole Peralez good-guy persona wasn’t just for show.</p><p>The bodyguard climbed into the driver’s seat and, at Elizabeth’s signal, turned the engine on with a rumbling tune. Damn, even the motor sounded loaded, like it spewed scratch with every roar.</p><p>“Carter, let’s go.”</p><p>With the vehicle now in motion, V felt the subtle shift in the Peralez’ body language, both of them closing in faintly as if cueing the start of the conversation—the real matter now at hand.</p><p>“So, whaddaya got for me?”</p><p>As though speaking on a subvocal line, the Peralezes synchronized their eye contact; Jefferson seemingly signaling for his wife to take the lead.</p><p>“As you’re probably aware,” Elizabeth started after licking her black-stained lips, claiming V’s attention. “Mayor Lucius Rhyne recently passed.”</p><p>The capitalized, flashing ‘BREAKING NEWS’ header that had been leaked across the city immediately came to mind and V nodded, crossing her arms over her chest as she leaned back in her seat.</p><p>“Mhm, ‘was all over the news.”</p><p>Elizabeth brow twitched, as if she was holding back a primal, nearly visceral reaction to that statement. “Of course it was. Media feasted for weeks. Pieces like that are their lifeblood,” she commented with a dismissive wave of her perfectly-manicured hand. Judging by her tone, it seemed like it wasn’t her first rodeo with the media—and with that lifestyle, sure as hell wouldn’t be the last. </p><p>“Well, we want to know more—” Jefferson jumped in. “The why, how, whatever else is pertinent.”</p><p>It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together. “Think the media missed somethin’?”</p><p>“We have reasons to believe they did, yes.” Elizabeth’s diamond earring caught a ray of light as she bobbed her head, the reflection almost as blinding as the whiteness of her husband’s teeth.</p><p>V couldn’t help but squint. “And what about the cops? The case’s closed, isn’t it?”</p><p>Elizabeth flicked a hand through her slicked back hair—a glimpse of the frustration she hid under that calm exterior. Jefferson didn’t move an inch, looking rather unperturbed and composed, most likely the same facade he used to face the public.</p><p>“It is,” Elizabeth confirmed. “It’s all in the official report; Rhyne died at home due to a ‘cardioimplant malfunction’.”</p><p>Raising a brow at the blatant implication, V allowed her rising eagerness to tug at her lip. “And what makes you think they got it wrong? Surely you wouldn’t have reached out to me if you didn’t have any evidence.”</p><p>“There was an attempt on his life a few days prior,” Elizabeth answered evenly, this time unfazed by the challenging look V gave her. “But the NCPD ruled it as no more than a random cyberpsycho attack. Unrelated to his passing, which was, presumably, of natural causes.”</p><p>“There’s more.” Jefferson picked up where his wife left off. “Shortly before Rhyne passed, he made cuts in the NCPD budget. Perhaps got on someone’s bad side that way. But,” he reached into the pocket of his wrinkle-resistant jacket, pulling out a chip. “In any case, we got the cyberpsycho attack on a BD.”</p><p>Examining the chip in question while rolling it between her fingers, V narrowed her eyes, the passing buildings leading into Japantown nothing but a forgotten blur.</p><p>“Our chief of security scanned it, but didn’t find anything out of the ordinary. We need a braindance editor, a real one.” A certain tilt in Elizabeth’s voice hinted at the entailment; this was where her involvement truly began. “It’s raw footage.”</p><p>V made a mental note to send a quick gratitude text to Judy later. Who knew braindance editing skills would already come in handy? </p><p>“It has to be back where it belongs today, or a lot of people will get in a lot of trouble,” Jefferson stated with austerity, the kind you might get from your holier-than-thou boss. “If you agree to help, you can see it right now.”</p><p>Not that there was much to think about, what with the curiosity eating away at V being far too stubborn to ignore, but there was still one question itching to be voiced.</p><p>“One last thing—where’d you get the recording?”</p><p>While Elizabeth seemed taken aback with the question, perhaps wondering if it was disguised as some kind of unsought accusation, Jefferson answered it with ease.</p><p>“Rhyne was making a public appearance, and BD scrolling is standard procedure for events like that.” He shrugged. “After the attack, the NCPD impounded the footage as evidence.”</p><p>Both confirming V’s suspicions and concealing a few details, Elizabeth gave her an intentionally heavy-lidded glare. “We had to pull many strings to extract it.”</p><p>A.k.a., don’t poke your nose where it doesn’t belong, but don’t fuck this up either.</p><p>A snicker echoed in her head. “<em>Heh, suits </em>.”</p><p>V had to tame a smirk of her own, then broke eye contact with Elizabeth as she released a breath. “Alright, ‘see what I can do.”</p><p>Jefferson broke into a sigh of relief, visibly relaxing his crisp expression. “Excellent. We’d be happy with any find, any clarification you can give us.”</p><p>“Got it.”</p><p>Inserting the chip into the side-slot of her BD wreath and placing it on her temples, V allowed the blue light to overwhelm her senses, pulling her out of reality and into a world of pixels.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p><b> This officially marks the beginning of ALLUVION, my novelization fic of River's questline from Cyberpunk2077, hooray!!<br/>A few notes concerning the fic and what is to be expected:<br/><b><br/>- This will be a very lengthy fic. To take a wild guess, I'd say around 150k words. Possibly more<br/>- Conversations with Johnny will be written in italic, unless there's no one else around V in which case it'll be in normal font<br/>- The female V in this story will remain canon to the one described and shown on the photos (physical appearance and personality wise, as well as her Nomad origins)<br/>- There will be a photo added at the start of every chapter for easier visualization<br/>- Please ignore any Mantis Blades/Monowire on V's arms in said photos. The V in this story does not have any arm implants<br/>- Updates should be weekly, unless otherwise stated<br/>- This project was built in order to give River Ward the attention and dedication he deserves. Please take your negativity elsewhere, thank you :)<br/>- I want to thank the <i>BEST FRIEND AND BEST BETA-READER ANYONE COULD HAVE--<i> This project couldn't have come to life without you, Leila!!</i></i></b></b><br/>  <b><br/><b>That's all for now, hope you all enjoy! <b></b></b></b><br/></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Dance Machine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>◾2: DANCE MACHINE◾</strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>When V opened her eyes again, Jefferson’s voice was long gone and the car ceiling had disappeared, fading back into a spacious, blue-tinted room—not to mention the square-shaped man that took up most of her field of vision.</p>
<p>Johnny materialized behind the static man, puffing away at a cig and while admiring the scene laid before his eyes—well, her eyes.</p>
<p>“<em>Well, whadda we got here </em> ?” He jabbed his cigarette at the figure, eyeing it up and down with smoke escaping from his parted lips. “<em>This guy looks like my grandma’s old fuckin’ fridge </em>.”</p>
<p>“<em>Question is </em> ,” V corrected, making sure not to forget the fact that her body was currently sitting in a luxurious car next to two clients, two very important clients, at that. “<em>What’re you doing here </em>?”</p>
<p>Johnny threw her an unyielding stare, feigning unnecessary offense. “<em>My brain too, isn’t it </em>?”</p>
<p>She didn’t bother answering that, and instead hit the play button to let the BD recording unfold through some poor choom’s former vision. To be frank, V disfavored the first-person mode more than she’d like to admit. The feeling of watching events roll through someone else’s eyes caused goosebumps to run down her arms—and not the good kind. </p>
<p>More often than not, it made her mind spin and bile rise up her esophagus. But so far, she’d managed to keep it all down. She’d gladly take a dozen good punches to the gut before she’d give Johnny the satisfaction of seeing her puke from a fuckin’ BD scroll, of all things.</p>
<p>The scene itself proved to be rather short and straightforward. Security guard on duty. Got scolded by that fridge lookin’ guy—his superior, no doubt— for letting his eyes wander during an official City Hall recording. Guard moved to the back entrance as Rhyne prepared for the conference. Guy walked through the security gate; a badge. Name’s River Ward. Said he got some important biz with the mayor’s chief of security. Guard, with his eyes glued to the cop, missed someone else waltzing through the gate and got sliced. Badge shot the culprit three times.</p>
<p>“<em>Alright,</em>” V sighed, wishing she’d be able to crack her knuckles right about now. “<em>Let’s do this.</em>”</p>
<p>Jumping into edit mode, V adjusted herself to the new angle, finally feeling a small wave of relief seep into her head.</p>
<p>She first scanned the culprit’s dead body. Name was Péter Horváth, male in his mid-forties. Wanted for murder of a public official, according to the NCPD database. Was carrying top of the line combat cyberware.</p>
<p>“<em>Coulda chromed half the city with what he was packin’ </em>.” V commented to no one but herself—and Johnny.</p>
<p>“<em>Prolly what happened. Body disappeared from the morgue, sight unseen. </em> ” Johnny paused, already off painting some random picture. “<em>And then some pig got himself a new set of wheels, and an ulgy-ass suit. </em>”</p>
<p>V suppressed yet another eyeroll. “<em>Know that, or just talkin’ out your ass </em>?”</p>
<p>“<em>Once you’ve seen all I’ve seen, don’t need to ‘know’ things to know ‘em. People are the same everywhere </em>.”</p>
<p>“<em>Ok </em> ,” V concluded before he’d even finished his monologue. “<em>It’s comin’ out your ass </em>.”</p>
<p>After rewinding and picking up on an external audio clue, V resumed the recording to the exact moment before the culprit walked through the security gate. </p>
<p>He was humming something. Something...oddly eerie. Then offed the guard without so much as a shred of hesitation, let alone anything that suggested remorse.</p>
<p>“<em>The tune...don’t recognize it. </em>”</p>
<p>Johnny scoffed, probably already bored with it all. “<em>Wouldn’t call that a tune </em>.”</p>
<p>“<em>He’s really into it. </em>”</p>
<p>“<em>He’s off his fuckin’ rocker, V. </em> ” Johnny sniped back, a little impatient. <em> “Get over it. </em>”</p>
<p>“<em>Jeez, anyone shit in your scrambled eggs this mornin’, sunshine? Even more of an angry teenager than usual. </em>”</p>
<p>The pregnant pause that echoed in her ears said it all. “<em>Fuck off </em>.”</p>
<p>V kept her smirk incorporeal. She wound back a bit further to watch the culprit striding through the gate without a care in the world. Why had the alarm gone off a minute prior for that badge, but hadn’t made a peep for dear old Péter Horváth? Could only be one explanation.</p>
<p>“<em>Terminal crashed right as he went through the gate </em> .” V mused after scanning the device. “<em>Glitch was no accident. </em>”</p>
<p>“<em>Meh </em> ,” Johnny countered, tone as disconnected as if he was in the middle of scratching his balls. Though that wouldn’t be surprising. “<em>Seen stranger coincidences </em>.”</p>
<p>“<em>Like? </em>” If he was gonna go all skeptical on her, better have a half-decent argument.</p>
<p>“<em>Like when you bang some chick and then her sister—later, same night. And it turns out they’re both sisters of God. </em>”</p>
<p>If she could give him an unimpressed glare right now, she would. “<em> That really happened to you? </em>”</p>
<p>“<em>Nah, </em> ” he answered evenly. “<em>But it could’ve. </em>”</p>
<p>“<em>Well, well, well. </em>”</p>
<p>V decided to skim over that glorious waste of time and rewound back to the beginning of the BD, right after that fridge guy—damn Johnny and his over-the-top nicknames— chewed out the poor, soon to be deceased guard.</p>
<p>Rhyne appeared to be having a conversation with someone; Weldon Holt, the deputy mayor. Before V could delve into this new character, Johnny interrupted.</p>
<p>“<em>Those assclowns are all the same </em>,” he mumbled, and this time it was easy enough to ignore his unnecessary input.</p>
<p>Switching onto the enhanced audio layer, V focused her attention on Holt and Rhyne’s exchange. </p>
<p>“Second conference in three days,” Holt said, his distorted, pixelated body language suggesting irritation. “No idea what this blitz is for.”</p>
<p>Rhyne, with his back turned to him as he read through his notes, retorted: “That’s why I’m mayor and you’re not. Now’s when we need the visibility.”</p>
<p>Holt hesitated for a split second. “You’re spreading yourself too thin.”</p>
<p>Didn’t know if that sounded like genuine concern, or something else. There was a certain edge in Holt’s voice. Was it disfavor, or something that ran deeper than that?</p>
<p>“I’ll rest tonight,” Rhyne replied, looking like a walking muffin with limbs as he paced in front of his subordinate. “I assume my room at the Red Queen’s Race is ready?”</p>
<p>“Of course,” Holt complied with a nod of his shiny bald head.</p>
<p>“Good. Now go,” Rhyne shooed him off, but Holt had already long turned on his heels. “Gotta practice.”</p>
<p>V paused the recording, thinking out loud. “<em>Red Queen’s Race… </em> ” She then addressed Johnny directly. “<em>Ring any bells </em>?”</p>
<p>“<em>Sure </em> ,” he answered a little too offhandedly. “<em>Buncha old Britfarts in powdered wigs, yelling ‘off with their heads! </em>’”</p>
<p>“<em>Y’know you’re allowed to say you don’t have a clue. </em>”</p>
<p>Turning back to the visual layer, V examined Rhyne’s clueless frame glitching in and out of focus. Definitely unsuspecting, no doubt there. She pressed play and watched as Holt and a guard walked away, leaving the room without another word.</p>
<p>Something smelled fishy. Kinda like sashimi that has been left out far longer than anyone would like to admit, down in the heart of Kabuki’s food market. You don’t like it, but you shove it in your mouth all the same.</p>
<p>“<em>They left literally seconds before the attack. Hm, </em> ” V spoke her theory out loud even though she expected Johnny to disagree within seconds, based on the mood he seemed to be in today. “<em>Looks planned. Like it was done on purpose </em>.”</p>
<p>“<em>That or the psycho saw his chance and took it.</em>” Aaaaand, bullseye. “<em>Don’t get paranoid on me, V.</em>”</p>
<p>“<em>Not impossible,</em>” she admitted. “<em>But don’t forget the cop wanted to tell security somethin’</em>.”</p>
<p>“<em>Prolly that he was standin’ by to lick Rhyne’s butthole. </em>”</p>
<p>Right, Johnny and his deep-rooted love for badges.</p>
<p>“<em>Christ. You’re impossible. </em>”</p>
<p>Without anything else to investigate, V exited the braindance, the white light washing away the pixelated residues like dish soap on a stack of crusty dishes. The world swirled for a dragging moment until V’s vision started to clear up; her surroundings settling back into stasis mode.</p>
<p>She squeezed her eyes shut and blinked repeatedly, taking a handful of seconds to get over the consuming dizziness.</p>
<p>It was only once she was back to a proper state that V noticed that aside from her, the car was empty. She looked out the window and saw Jefferson and Elizabeth standing in front of a very, very expensive looking AV.</p>
<p>“Goddamn,” she whistled under her breath before opening the door and getting out of the car, her feet a little wobbly on the concrete, though she made sure to hide it.</p>
<p>“You’re here, fantastic.” Jefferson looked up from his undoubtedly pricey watch and exclaimed as soon as she closed the car door shut. “Well, any thoughts?”</p>
<p>V handed him back the BD scroll, shrugging a shoulder. “Whole thing stinks worse than Coronado Bay in July.”</p>
<p>Johnny’s snort was too loud to easily ignore, but she managed.</p>
<p>“Huh,” Jefferson puffed at a cig of his own, brow quirked. “So suspicions confirmed. Do you have any questions at this point?”</p>
<p>Glancing over at Elizabeth revealed that the woman seemed totally uninterested, as opposed to mere moments prior in the car. What could have caused such a radical change in demeanor? Fight with the significant other, perhaps? </p>
<p>V turned back to Jefferson, question already packed up and ready to go. “Cop who saved Rhyne, know anythin’ about him?”</p>
<p>Peralez nodded, a pleased curve on his lips. “Detective River Ward. Good guy. We worked a few cases together, way back when.” He seemed to throw a signal at his wife, the first of which she ignored. Huh, that fight theory seemed livelier by the second. Exactly what had she missed while she was busy tweaking with the BD? Eventually, Jefferson gave up, giving V the offer himself. “If you wanna talk to him, I’ll put you in touch.”</p>
<p>“Thanks.” V watched as Jefferson took another drag, then crossed her arms over her chest. “Say, Mayor’s huscle—they NCPD?”</p>
<p>He seemed to study her, then shook his head. “No. All hand-picked by Holt, and on a corp’s payroll. Although, there are a few ex-cops among them.”</p>
<p>“Hm,” V hummed, reaching to scratch at her cheekbone.</p>
<p>Peralez seemed curious, and ultimately bit. “I can recognize a troubled look when I see one. What’re you thinking?”</p>
<p>Eyes lowering to the cigarette in Jefferson’s fingers, V had the sudden urge to bend down, close her lips around the cig herself, inhale the smoke until it filled every inch inside her lungs and—</p>
<p>Fuck. Fuck no. </p>
<p>The urge was gone as soon as it arrived, instead replaced by a strong, undeniable disgust. Fucking Johnny, messing with her senses.</p>
<p>“<em>How is it always my fault, </em>” he complained, his figure appearing behind Elizabeth to lean onto the side of the AV.</p>
<p>V shook the unexpected disruption from her memory, forcing her attention on Jefferson only.</p>
<p>“Just that Ward had impeccable timing,” she answered, hoping her behavior hadn’t raised suspicion. “Either has crazy good luck or had a source; got good info. And I’m gonna need some of each.”</p>
<p>For the first time since she exited the BD, Elizabeth lifted her eyes from the device in her hands.</p>
<p>“Well said.”</p>
<p>Jefferson’s eyes flicked to his wife, perhaps relieved, although it was hard to tell. He seemed somewhat in a hurry to get into the AV and take off. Candidate duty calling?</p>
<p>“Sending you Ward’s detes.” He said as the data started uploading in V’s field of vision. “If you need anything else, let us know, we’ll help.”</p>
<p>Taking that as a farewell, at least for now, V nodded and turned to walk away as the Peralezes embarked in their slick, personal mode of transportation. The wind picked up as the AV flew right over V’s head, leaving her bangs in disarray when the notification appeared before her eyes.</p>
<p>
  <strong>NEW CONTACT ADDED: RIVER WARD</strong>
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<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Dippin' your toes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Side note: the outfit on this photo is the one V wears when going out to meet River</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
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<p>
  <span>◾3: DIPPIN’ YOUR TOES◾</span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>V squeezed the excess water out of her hair after stepping out of the shower, reaching for the abandoned towel on the floor. She went for a quick sniff, and a grimace twisted her face—frankly, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d washed it...probably a bad sign. Not that it really mattered; she still settled for patting herself with it. Fresh towels were a luxury she couldn’t afford right now.</p><p>“Can’t afford, or won’t afford?” Johnny popped up in the far left corner as soon as she wiped a hand across the foggy mirror.</p><p>Her eyes flicked to his reflection, though she didn’t bother moving from her position. Catching her red-handed was one of his signature moves; prolly wanted to take advantage of sharing a woman’s body while he still could. And of course, he grabbed every opportunity to get under her skin with eager hands. It had worked at first, had V protesting and throwing empty shampoo bottles at his insubstantial figure, but now, saying that she was used to his surprise visits was an understatement. </p><p>“You really gotta jump in when I’m butt-ass naked in my bathroom?”</p><p>Johnny smirked and leaned on the wall, the steam in the room sadly not thick enough to wipe that smug look off his face. “Heh. Just ‘cause you can’t see me doesn’t me I can’t see you.”</p><p>V stifled an eye roll, her brows knitting together. “Mhm,” she replied dryly, unamused with his comment but not surprised.</p><p>The unfortunate reality was impossible to run away from; truth was, she had given up on any sort of boundaries when it came to Johnny. He might have been a total jerk about it sometimes, but deep down, none of this was his fault, either. And in the end, she didn’t really care that much.</p><p>A human body’s a human body. Nothin’ Johnny’s never seen before anyway, based on the very vivid images she’d had of his personal memories.</p><p>V caught a last glimpse of herself in the mirror, pinpointing that new scar above her left breast and skimming over the old, forgotten ones, then moved to the living room while tying her damp hair in a messy high bun. It would take longer to dry, but as typical as it was to say, she hated leaving it down on her shoulders. Simple as that.</p><p>At least that shower had provided the relief she’d desperately needed—assisting a group of Nomads in the badlands then sprinting back into town for a new job was preem and all, if not for the sticky, grimy skin that came from three days without shower. You win some, you lose some. </p><p>A quick scan of her disorganized wardrobe later and V was dressed up in black leather pants—her most comfortable pair, funnily enough—and red jacket, ready to slide through the front door without looking back. She strode through the hallway, ignoring both the handful of wandering stares and the flying screamsheets clinging to her legs. She saluted Wilson with a wave of her finger as she got into the elevator, using that time to tune out the blabber on the news and call her next target, Detective River Ward.</p><p>Only one ring echoed before the line picked up on the other end.</p><p>“This is Ward.” V immediately recognized the low voice, thinking back to the BD of this morning. “Who am I talkin’ to?</p><p>“Name’s V. Lookin’ into the death of one late Mayor, Lucius Rhyne.”</p><p>Ward went silent. Letting her introduction sink in, perhaps? Theorizing over what her intentions might be? If there was a universal way badges enjoyed their coffee, it certainly was with a sprinkle of paranoia and a dash of judgment.</p><p>V couldn’t help but feel a certain weight in his silence. Normally, she’d push for an answer. Had no time to waste, after all. But shockingly enough, her mouth remained shut and her patience aplenty. She felt herself being scrutinized by that lone narrowed eye, as ridiculous of a feeling as it was, based on the fact that <em> he </em> couldn’t even see <em> her </em>.</p><p>“Wonder why…” He eventually spoke when the elevator doors opened on the first floor, tone something between suspicion and curiosity.  “You’re not a cop.”</p><p>Johnny snorted at that. “<em>Thank fuck not. </em>”</p><p>“I’m conductin’ a private investigation into this…” She paused, searching for a socially-acceptable word. “Matter.”</p><p>Detective Ward halted mid-way into rolling his eyes and visibly shifted in place, as if forgetting he was on cam and hoping the gesture had passed under V’s radar. Well, too bad for him.</p><p>“Good luck with that. And do me a favor—lose this number.” V quirked an eyebrow as she strolled down the stairs of the building, the chattering nameless people and music playing through the speakers nothing but background noise. “I like PIs about as much as I like the scop at Caliente.”</p><p>Hm. Interesting.</p><p>“I’m no private eye,” V retorted, using an unruffled tone to cut right through his impatient one.</p><p>If he’d been on the verge of hanging up, something stopped him. “So what are you?”</p><p>As much as the guy tried to appear cold and uninterested, that tilt in his voice and that glint in his eye shamelessly betrayed him. He was giving her a chance to explain. Was interested in hearing her out.</p><p>V swung a leg over her motorcycle, a smirk carving itself on her lips. “Meet me, you’ll find out.”</p><p>It took a moment for him to answer, but eventually he did. And he didn’t disappoint. “Alright. I’m headed to Chubby Buffalo’s, in Heywood.”</p><p>“Be there stat.”</p><p>The tires of V’s bike scraped on the ground as she backed out of her parking space and drove through the city streets; the pavement wet from recent rainfall creating neon reflections to glide on.</p><p> </p><p>✕</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Chubby Buffalo’s was as cut-and-dry as its name suggested. It conformed to Heywood’s charming lack of hospitality like a pastor on a religious vow—in blind loyalty. </p><p>Although, it sure seemed to be self-aware.</p><p>The pungent smell of greasy onions and synthetic patties assaulted V’s senses as soon as she walked inside, the checkered floor tiles and worn pleather seats a little too evocative of Tom’s Diner. A fleeting thought for Hellman and Takemura slipped past her barriers, and V had to mentally slap herself to focus on the job at hand. She looked around the room in search of Detective Ward, her boots clicking with each step as she headed straight for his table, one he appeared to be sharing with another cop.</p><p>The first thing V noticed before words were even exchanged was the way Ward carried himself, exuding an intimidating aura even from his seated position. It took a lot more than smoldering badges to scare her off, if that was even doable at this point, but it was easy to take an educated guess when it came to the effect Ward had on civilians.</p><p>The other badge—a middle-age Chinese man, from the looks of it—turned an inquisitive glance her way, his modality hidden behind those tinted frames of his.</p><p>“Someone here to see you, looks like,” the badge said in a monotone voice.</p><p>Ward downed his coffee, raising a questioning brow at V before setting down his seemingly empty to-go cup.</p><p>Though he tried to conceal it with a dense frown, the slight surprise that illuminated his face for a split second didn’t get past V. He fell back into that toughened stance, fists partly closed on the table and shoulders broader than the All Foods advertisement banners.</p><p>“Hm. Wonder what about.” </p><p>Ah, there it was. Ward was testing her. He must’ve known what she was here for, and was giving her an opening. Layin’ out the tools to see if she could figure it out for herself. The way he glared at her left no doubt in her mind: this guy didn’t have time to lose fucking around with things that weren’t worth his time.</p><p>Good, neither did she.</p><p>“Wanted to talk,” she replied without delay, crossing her arms. “Got a minute?”</p><p>That seemed to live up to his unspoken demands, because Ward’s tenacious stare simmered down by a notch or two. “You must be V,” he stated, though something told V it was more for the other guy’s benefit than his own. He gave her a curt nod, then gestured to the badge sitting across from him. “My partner, Detective Han.”</p><p>Partner, huh? Was he planning on double-teaming her on this? If so, she hadn’t gotten the memo.</p><p>“Ok,” she offered her plain greeting to Han before turning back to Ward. “Thanks for agreeing to meet.”</p><p>Ward didn’t get a chance to answer. </p><p>“You really intend to work with a merc?” Han asked, the question directed at Ward even though his faultfinding eyes never left V. The judgement oozed from his tone as if he’d been considering whether or not to eat a piece of rotten meat.</p><p>Or fighting whether or not to show disappointment in his own partner’s choices. Regardless, her occupation hadn’t remained a mystery for long.</p><p>Ward stared down at his partner with sullen eyes. It was like watching a shell constantly cracking and rebuilding itself, as if on an endless loop.</p><p>“Don’t know what I intend just yet.” He replied, chin tilted just enough to let Han know to drop it. “For now, gonna see if I hear anything new about Rhyne’s death.” His right, metallic hand inched toward her.</p><p>Han sat back, feathers clearly ruffled. “You back on that? Boss already told you to drop it. Don’t make him say it again. You know he hates to say things twice.” He threw a dismissive hand in the air, as if he couldn’t have made it any easier to see through the frustration he so stubbornly tried to hide. “And if you couldn’t give a rat’s fat ass about any of that, heed my advice, as your friend. Let the case go.”</p><p>Well, that argument certainly wasn’t half-assed.</p><p>But, unlike V, Ward didn’t seem surprised in the slightest. “You see me doin’ anything?” He replied with a loose shrug. “Just sitting here,” he gestured to his empty cup “Sippin’ coffee,” then flicked his eyes up at her. “Listenin’ to gossip.”</p><p>Han, however, wasn’t down for playing along. “Fine, do what you want.” His tone was obviously displeased, but he seemed willing to let it go. “I’m not about to be part of this. Gotta go get my little girl, anyway.”</p><p>V backed up a step as he stood up, giving him enough space to slide out of the seat. “And you two at least find a quieter corner?” He added before turning away to take his leave, his leather trench coat swinging with the motion. “Wouldn’t want to be overheard.”</p><p>After watching him leave the restaurant, V turned her attention back to Ward at the same time as he did to her. Perhaps unhappy with the loss of his partner, perhaps not, Ward’s expression seemed to have closed up once more, his scowl much thicker than before. And the hard shell was back with a vengeance.</p><p>“Ok,” he said, sounding impatient as he motioned to the empty seat. “Talk.”</p><p>“<em>Fuck me,</em>” Johnny chimed in from the sidelines, pacing left and right on the counter and virtually stepping in people’s plates. “<em>This case sucks balls.</em> <em>And this guy’s a snooze-fest and a goddamn asswipe, pure and simple. Tell me we’re gettin’ the fuck out A.S.A.P.</em>”</p><p>V would be lying if she said she didn’t share at least some of Johnny’s indignation, but she made sure to swallow down her bitterness and got to work, starting by sitting her own ass down in front of Ward.</p><p>That being said, her next line slipped out incognito. “I see Detective Han’s not a fan of edgerunners.”</p><p>The comment drew his attention to her arm, specifically on the newest bruise—the one she got when a bastard Kang Tao soldier struck her with his assault rifle—extending from her elbow to her wrist and pigmenting her skin a nasty shade of purple. His eyes seemed to linger there, as if contemplating anything and everything it implied.</p><p>“Don’t take it personally,” he finally answered as he tore his intrusive stare away from her forearm. “Detective Han’s not a fan of anybody.” He shrugged weakly. “Except his daughter.”</p><p>V narrowed her eyes, ever so faintly, as she hummed. Honestly, she couldn’t care less about what dear old Detective Han thought of her. He wasn’t the one she would need to associate with for biz. </p><p>Repressing the smirk that tickled her mouth, V centered her attention on the man facing her. For someone who seemed so keen on studying her, he’d quickly see she wouldn’t hesitate returning the favor.</p><p>“And what ‘bout you? Disfavor any mercs lately?”</p><p>His eyes—one organic, one cyborg—held onto hers in a game of chicken. His brow twitched, as if torn between opposing trains of thoughts. </p><p>“I’d like to think I don’t judge a book solely by its cover.”</p><p>V couldn’t help it this time. The smirk made its way to her lips, although tamed. “Ah. Thought you might like edgerunners just about as much as you like the scop at Caliente.”</p><p>Surprise spread across his features, and the reaction was even more rewarding than V had imagined. For a second, she thought he was gonna get up and call it quits; fed up of her shit before any words of Rhyne’s death could even be exchanged.</p><p>But then he released a dry breath—something between a chuckle and a scoff—and allowed his tense posture to relax as he sat back, finally breaking eye contact. “Touché.”</p><p>“<em>Lord Almighty, get me outta here </em>,” Johnny whined from his corner.</p><p>As if on cue with Johnny’s remark, Ward turned his head to the side and looked over at the people on the counter, making V’s blood run cold in her veins. But the false alarm rang loudly in her ears when Ward’s expression remained unfazed, mocking her for forgetting her reality was not shared with others. In normo town, there was no Johnny Silverhand laying across the counter like a goddamn actor playing at Dionysus. That was in her head, and nothing more.</p><p>Johnny rolled his neck to glance her way. “<em>You’re gettin’ real sad to look at, V </em>.”</p><p>Thankfully, Ward jumped in and erased Johnny’s words from the track record. “Know what, Han was right. Acoustics are a little too good in here. Should be safe outside.”</p><p>“Ok, sure.”</p><p>Ward slapped some eddies on the table as he stood up and V followed him outside, where the rain had resumed. Seemingly knowing his way around the place, he led them to an empty alley, right by a brimful dumpster.</p><p>“So,” Ward said as he crossed his broad arms over his chest, leaning back on the graffiti-covered wall. “You wanted to talk.”</p><p>His tone was stern, but perhaps a little looser than it was at first, if V dared to think so. She mirrored his position, leaning back onto the opposing wall and propping the sole of her foot against it, hands in her pockets. </p><p>“Before the attack, you wanted to talk to Rhyne’s huscle. Get some info to ‘em.” The look she gave him was clear; she wasn’t here for bullshit. “What was it?”</p><p>“Let me ask you a question first,” Ward countered. “Why do you have your nose in this? Who hired you?”</p><p>Typically speaking, V would never reveal a client’s name to some rando she only needed for intel. Hell, normally wouldn’t even know the client’s identity herself. But right now, something made her stop and reconsider. Change her approach, even.</p><p>Considering how Peralez had claimed to have worked with the guy in the past, and after getting to meet him herself, V found no reason why he couldn’t be trusted with the information.</p><p>“<em>You mean ‘side from the fact that he’s a blue-coat? </em>” Johnny added his grain of salt with a cackle, like the voice of the devil sitting on her shoulder.</p><p>“Elizabeth Peralez hired me,” V answered in an even tone, as if Johnny hadn’t interrupted. “And her husband, Jefferson.”</p><p>Perhaps Ward hadn’t been expecting her to answer the question. Perhaps had been caught off guard with the info, because his functional eye widened for the first time since she’d met him.</p><p>“The presumed future mayor? Hah,” he shook his head as he looked to the sky. “Guess I should’ve seen that comin’...”</p><p>The warm brown of Ward’s skin contrasted with the grey of the sky, grabbing V’s attention like a 6th street member hogs ammunition. The scarred tissue behind his optic implant fought for first place alongside the dangling of his sole, golden earring—a raindrop trailing down on it until it fell onto the thick collar of his coat.</p><p>Ward sighed, bringing her observations to a halt. He angled himself toward her and veiled his eye behind a strict biz-only cloth, creating a temporary inner circle. It was obvious his demeanor had drastically changed—as if he now trusted her enough to share his side of the story.</p><p>“Péter Horváth, cyberpsycho who tried to attack the mayor.” Ward started, drawing V in. “Some of the guys from the precinct saw him around Arroyo, shooting up dumpsters, hollering how he’s got a meet with the mayor. They brought ‘im in, took ‘im downtown, but then he got ‘lost’ before they could get his statement.”</p><p>V lightly dug her teeth in her tongue, something she often did when scrolling through a hundred different thoughts—or so she’d been told by Johnny. “Lost, huh?”</p><p>“Lost.” Ward confirmed with a knowing nod. “Meanin’ someone didn’t want him counting roaches in a cell that day.” V didn’t have time to open her mouth. “And before you ask me, no. I got no idea who.”</p><p>Despite that dead end, there was still something else bugging V. And she didn’t resist the urge to inquire. “So, saw a potential threat, and decided to warn the mayor? Just like that, cause...ya got a good heart?”</p><p>At that moment, Ward squinted and the tension on his forehead lessened. What was that she could read on his face, was it...pity?</p><p>“Make it sound like that’s somethin’ to be ashamed of.”</p><p>V recoiled, filled with the strange need to justify herself. “Ashamed? Nah.” She shook her head and shrugged, although mirthlessly. “Just not somethin’ you see everyday, is all.”</p><p>Ward made a noncommittal hum, sounding distant as he laced the next moment in silence. That being said, he was quick to reciprocate the interrogation when the opportunity presented itself. </p><p>“My turn. Why’s Peralez looking at this now? And why’s he want it done unofficial, on the hush-hush?”</p><p>It was V’s turn to sigh. She had a few theories in mind, but her gut told her this puzzle wasn’t a hard one to crack. “Could have somethin’ to do with Holt, but honestly, think Peralez might just be scared.”</p><p>Ward’s scoff was dark. “Doesn’t want the job of a guy who got carried out feet first?”</p><p>“Heh,” V cracked a smile. “Who would?”</p><p>Ward didn’t fully return her smile, but his look did soften—granted, barely. The rain started falling harder, landing in V’s hair and dripping from the tip of her bangs. </p><p>“So, any more questions for me, Detective?” Notes of teasing colored her voice, seemingly catching Ward off guard once again. And she didn’t feel like giving him the chance to get over it. “Cause I got another one for you; the Red Queen’s Race—heard anythin’ about it? Know what it is?”</p><p>Ward pushed himself off the wall, but kept his arms crossed. “Maybe I have. Maybe I do. It got anything to do with Rhyne?”</p><p>“The guy was headed there the day he died.”</p><p>Walking a few steps toward the dumpster, Ward kicked an empty beer can with his boot, sending it flying on top of the pile of trash bags. “Pssh, fine. All I’ve heard, it’s some fancy-ass club. Though, no idea how to even look for it.”</p><p>V dropped her head back until it hit the concrete wall. She was biting back a curse when Ward talked again, this time carrying relatively good news.</p><p>“I got this CI in Japantown. We can pay ‘im a visit, he might know.” His arms fell to his side, as if getting ready to walk off. “Or we can go talk to the woman Horváth worked for.” His eyes dropped to hers, suddenly towering over her from his upstanding position. “Up to you.”</p><p>V dropped her foot from the wall, sub-consciously trying to stretch out her spine as much as she could. “Hold on there. We?”</p><p>“Can’t shake this case,” Ward’s face hardened as he answered, his gaze falling to the ground and his hands closing into fists out of instinct. “Somethin’s up. Just look how quickly the case was closed.” He shifted his weight, eyes finding hers again in a shared agreement. “This way, you get your job done while I get enough evidence to get the chief to reopen the case. Win-win. Whaddaya say?”</p><p>Working with a partner? The thought alone left a bitter taste in V’s mouth. The taste lingered, mixing in with painful memories she still struggled to forget.</p><p>“Erh,” she exhaled, coarse. “Fine. But I do things the way I always do ‘em, and you don’t get in my way. Deal?”</p><p>Ward regarded her, dipping his chin. “Deal. As long as you don’t use innocent citizens as collateral damage, that is.”</p><p>He might’ve been teasing, but again, it was hard to tell. V scoffed. “Think I’m such a monster?”</p><p>Blinking slowly, Ward eventually shrugged. “No. But dunno for sure, yet.”</p><p>Though she rolled her eyes, V also allowed amusement to tug at her lips. “Uh-huh,” she hummed, then cleared her throat, pacing on the wet and faintly reflective cement. “So, where to? Though the club is a better lead, I’d go see his boss first. Wanna see how the guy coulda made so much scratch even his pockets were chromed.</p><p>Ward nodded slowly, then pointed to the diner parking lot. “Ok. Got my truck to get us there.”</p><p>“<em>Don’t do it, V </em>.”</p><p>It wasn’t that she wanted to encourage Johnny by going along with his ridiculous suggestions, but she hated leaving her bike behind. Hence, avoided doing so whenever possible.</p><p>“Thanks, but I got my own ride sittin’ over there.” V turned on her heels, walking out of the alley and gesturing to her Kusanagi, raindrops bouncing off the seat. “Send me the location, I’ll meet you there.”</p><p>Detective Ward didn’t argue, his one eye turning blue as the detes came through. “Alright, see you there.”</p><p>As they parted ways, Ward got in his truck and V walked to her bike, brushing the excess water off before getting comfortable.</p><p>“<em>Well, well. Gettin’ along with a badge, who would’ve thunk. </em> ” Johnny piped up from the confines of her mind, rubbing it in. “<em>If you’re waitin’ for a congratulatory letter, don’t expect it from me. </em>”</p><p>V watched as Ward drove out of the parking lot, flicking wet strands of hair away from her eyes.</p><p> “<em>Shut up, Johnny. </em>”</p><p><br/>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Sanguine eyes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
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</p><p> </p><p><strong>◾4</strong> <strong>: SANGUINE EYES◾</strong></p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Cherry Blossom Market was one of those places that, at first glance, seemed almost out of place in Night City. The setting was, dare she say, eye-catching—a mix of innovative and traditional which wasn’t immediately repulsive, for a change.</p><p>But then, once you actually walked in, it was more of the same. Neon ads, cheap foods, moldy boxes and—was that a guy taking a piss in the corner of her peripheral vision?</p><p>“So,” V turned a blind eye to the human fountain and faced Ward, whose height offered him the necessary advantage to scan the perimeter before she could. “Who’s the cyberpsycho’s boss?”</p><p>Ward answered without taking his eyes off the square. “Christine Markov. Forty-two. File has her listed as Horváth’s sole employer.” His gaze lowered to V, making her feel much shorter than she actually was. Jeez, just how tall was this guy? He seemed to be growing by the minute. Maybe on dorph, or somethin’, though he didn’t look like the type to pop pills. “Sole contact too, actually.”</p><p>The implication in his voice waved a big ol’ red flag. “Huh,” V answered, arching a sarcastic brow. “You don’t say.”</p><p>“Got no idea who we’re lookin’ for,” Ward said as his hands rose to his hips. “But Markov apparently works here. Owns a stall. Gonna have to ask around.”</p><p>V nodded, nibbling at her bottom lip. Shouldn’t be too difficult, considering the apparent square-footage of this market. “Alright. Let’s start lookin’.”</p><p>A man of very few words, Ward gave one sharp nod. Although that might’ve been something he picked up from training with badges for...a certain number of years. At least it was better than Militech’s ultimately aggressive nature.</p><p>“<em>Mustached, doughnut-eatin’ scumbags better than Militech?</em>” Johnny asked, his glitching shape manifesting on a short set of stairs. “<em>Nah, they’re both more fulla shit than a cat’s litter box.</em>”</p><p>“<em>Mustached? Litter box? </em> ” V quietly snorted. “<em>Wake up Johnny, this ain’t 2020 anymore. </em>”</p><p>Johnny slowly turned his head the opposite way, disgusted. “<em>No, it’s worse. </em>”</p><p>Leaving Ward to do his thing while he questioned the vendor of the Yagami Market food stall, V found another target to approach. A woman, which automatically carried better odds.</p><p>“You Christine Markov?” She asked with a raised brow, putting significant effort in trying to appear somewhat approachable. She’d been told her gaze was intimidating enough times to make a full record of it—certainly didn’t need any more reminders.</p><p>“<em>Maybe because you got the eyes of a blood-thirsty fuckin’ demon </em>,” Johnny added just to tip her patience over.</p><p>Clenching her jaw to keep her spiking irritation at bay, V gave a quick, non-negotiable look. “<em>Have I told you to fuck off yet today? </em>”</p><p>He grinned, wide and content. “<em>Three times, maybe. </em>”</p><p>“<em>Well, at the cost of repeating myself </em> — <em> fuck off. </em>”</p><p>V got back down to earth to see the other woman staring at her, perplexed. </p><p>“I’m sorry, what was that?”</p><p>At least the vendor seemed to be reasonable. Answered her question as if V hadn’t just asked twice. More than most would do in this city. </p><p>“I said that ain’t me. But I know who Christine Markov is,” she repeated. Gestured over to the opposite row of stalls. “Stand with the techie, on the other side.”</p><p>“Thanks.”</p><p>V trailed Ward’s steps, spotted him at a stand on the other side of the square. Their quick eye-contact confirmed Ward hadn’t found anything conclusive on his end and she beckoned him over.</p><p>“Apparently our woman’s a techie.”</p><p>Finding the stand in question was as easy and effortless as ripping a one-cheek squeak in the middle of a Saturday afternoon. V leaned on the counter while Ward hovered at her side, quietly observing Christine Markov with the calculating radar of a detective.</p><p>“You Christine Markov?” She asked loud enough for the woman to halt mid-way into tightening a bolt on some old radio. “We have some questions.”</p><p>The woman didn’t hesitate before blurting out: “You badges?”</p><p>Eyes instinctively trailing to Ward’s, V held her tongue before deciding to shimmy her way out of that question. Hopefully, the lack of uniforms would prove to be sufficient. “Lookin’ for data on Péter Horváth.” The woman still didn’t bother turning around, and V gave into the frown pulling at her brows. “Worked here, apparently.”</p><p>She topped it off with an implied question mark that was meant to tickle the ear, hoping it would be enough to prompt the woman into talking. </p><p>Seemed to work. “Yeah, he did.” Markov’s tone rang a little short on patience, though that might’ve been due to her misleading street dialect. “Then he stopped workin’, started makin’ fuckin’ speeches all the time.”</p><p>“Horváth make good scratch here?” V asked, opting for the blunt questioning method with the shrug of a shoulder. “Coulda bought this whole market with the chrome he was packin’.”</p><p>Finally, a reaction. “Ah-hah!” Markov exclaimed as she twisted her upper body to glance at them, her voice hoarse. A projectile of spit traveled straight from her rotten teeth-packed mouth to the counter. Ward blinked down at the foamy drop of saliva, landing only a few inches in front of him. </p><p>“<em>See, Johnny. This is what cigs’ll do to ‘ya. </em>”</p><p>“<em>Only if you can’t handle ‘em. </em>”</p><p>“Oh yeah, made scads on scads here.” Markov elaborated her answer, shaking her head like processing some sick joke. “Motherfuckin’ millionaire like we all are, ‘ma right?”</p><p>With a snort, she went back to tinkering with her radio. V met Ward’s eyes in a silent understanding. Huh, couldn’t say the badge didn’t know how to take a hint.</p><p>“Then where’d he get the eddies?” He insisted, the crease between his brows letting Markov know he didn’t share her amusement. “Know anythin’?”</p><p>Markov gave him the stink eye, the generosity of her cooperation running thinner and thinner. “Look, if I knew, I wouldn’t be sittin’ here sellin’ scop to tower trash. I’d get myself an AV, fly my fuckin’ slim ass outta here.”</p><p>V was already feeling a headache come on from the shrill nasality of Markov’s voice. And the woman wasn’t done ramblin’ on—though it was now somewhat useful intel, at least. “Péter showed up one day with all that.” She flung her screwdriver about. “Extra worked up too. Whacked enough that I asked him where he got it. Said somebody’d finally seen what he was worth.”</p><p>The rest of Markov’s speech went right through V’s ear and out the other. Someone had been stuffing Horváth’s pockets. Same someone who’d bailed him out of custody after he got cuffed? As opposed to Johnny, V wasn’t such a firm believer of crazy coincidences.</p><p>And judging from the way Ward clenched his jaw, neither was he.</p><p>“You mentioned speeches.” V shifted her weight, crossing her arms over her chest in a typical fashion. “What’d Péter have to say?”</p><p>She might’ve expected Makov to bark back, refuse to answer, hesitate—something. But instead, the woman offered her hurried answer raw and unseasoned. Didn’t really weigh her words or turn her tongue before speaking, this one.</p><p>“<em>Rhyne </em> ,” Markov dressed her voice in a mocking tone. “<em>The cops got ‘im by the balls and cock, but he still managed to fuck me. </em>” She angled her chin to crack her neck, then shrugged. “Horváth’s motto.”</p><p>Interesting, but not surprising.</p><p>“Why’d he have it in for the mayor?” Ward asked, cutting in.</p><p>Markov threw her head back, her jeer causing the wrinkled skin of her neck to vibrate. “Hah, lookin’ for reason in that whackjob? Prolly thought Rhyne was talkin’ to him through the TV, promisin’ all sorts of shits, then ceasin’ to give a flyin’ fuck.” Woman snorted and spewed out some kind of phlegm. Jesus fuckin’ Christ. “In Péter’s world, everyone was out to get ‘im.”</p><p>“So, as he saw it, who else had it in for ‘im?”</p><p>Christine Markov popped out a hip, tapping her screwdriver on the table like a kid suffering a bad case of inattentive ADHD. “Uh, ‘sides Rhyne?” She gave a strangled laugh, unashamed of making herself laugh. “Madame President, mostly. Then Araska, the geezer, and when he died it was his son’s turn.”</p><p>It was taking V an unfathomable amount of effort to keep listening to the crap oozing out of this woman’s mouth. She was itching to delta. </p><p>But when Ward opened his mouth to follow up, Markov suddenly snapped. Putting an end of V’s quiet suffering, thank fuck.</p><p>“Will that be all, detectives?” The last word was dragged through mud and thrown at their faces. She flicked her head to the side, telling them to fuck off. “You’re spookin’ my clientele.”</p><p>“<em>What clientele? </em>”</p><p>Seemed Johnny at least shared her thoughts on that.</p><p>“Well,” Ward began, Christine Markov and her tech stand already nothing but a retreating sight. “Horváth had sponsors.”</p><p>He seemed surprisingly optimistic, concerning the underwhelming interrogation that had just gone down, mere seconds ago. V scratched her head and shot him a look—not pessimist, but realistic—falling into step with him.</p><p>“We mighta guessed as much,” she countered.</p><p>Ward lowered his chin, glancing her way. “Might seem like we didn’t get much out of that. But sometimes intel makes sense once you’ve got some context.”</p><p>V gave him a once-over. He was definitely a speed-walker like she was, yet his body fell into a different posture as soon as his feet moved. While V was laid-back and sure-footed, he was purposeful and daunting. Perhaps meant to scare off any gonk who tried to mess with the NCPD. Perhaps the result of years and years of muscle-building.</p><p>“Say, for instance, somebody says they got a headache,” Ward began with a certain receptivity in his voice; an obvious contrast to how closed-off it had been at Chubby Buffalo’s. “Minor detail, means nothin’, right?” He seemed to realize V’s strides weren’t as long as his, and made a valid effort to slow down his pace. “Usually, sure. But then the guy waltzes straight into oncoming traffic. The neighbour remembers someone had worked on the air conditioner in the guy’s unit, guy whose head always hurt.”</p><p>V didn’t even hide the curiosity that arched her brow. </p><p>“Accident, coincidence? Or maybe air-dispersed poison.” Ward waved an open-palm, laying down the conclusion to his story. “A deliberate hit.”</p><p>V stopped at the market entrance, causing Ward to do the same, then turn to face her. The hint of a smirk pulled at her lips. “You actually caught a case like that?”</p><p>Dishes clinked in the background, but the noise faded before it could reach V’s ears. The humidity in the air clung to their skins, lights from a row of red lanterns streaming down Ward’s profile. The tensed lines of his neck relaxed as his eye seemed to soften for a split moment, and he shrugged.</p><p>“No. Made it up. Still proves my point.”</p><p>...Interesting. “Uh-huh.” </p><p>Ward regarded her—his lone, brown eye staring down at the amused curve of her lip like psychoanalyzing its very existence. Perhaps the feeling was contagious, because Ward’s previously thinned mouth gave in, curling up as if mirroring her own.</p><p>Then he broke the eye contact and resumed his walk back to the parking lot.</p><p>V followed suit, though one more thing begged to be addressed. “<em> You sure you weren’t a badge in a past life? </em>” This was a one time chance handed on a goddamn golden platter. She had no other choice but to tease Johnny.</p><p>The answer came after a long, brooding silence. “<em> Shut the fuck up, V. </em>”</p><p>V’s inner scoff died when her attention was suddenly pulled back to the present moment—a moment which consisted of her almost walking into the solid wall that was Ward’s back. She thanked her trusty reflexes and frowned, cocking her head to peep at what had Ward stop like a truck about to burn a red light.</p><p>“Hey. What’s that look like to you?”</p><p>“Pig wagon.”</p><p>The heavy japanese accent, flashy menpos and tats-covered skin were noticeable even from where they were standing. Tyger Claws, not even a smidge of doubt about it. Especially considering this was their turf.</p><p>“Wrong,” the first guy snarled, cackling. “Fuckin’ ugly pig wagon.” He kicked the massive tire twice, as if it would cause it to fall off. “Someone should clean it, huh?”</p><p>Next to her, Ward had reverted back to his stiffened state. Though this time it wasn’t at her expense. He sighed, as if exhausted with the predicament before it even began. </p><p>“Oh, great. Lemme handle this, V.”</p><p>Letting her silence speak for itself, V trailed after him, crossing her arms over her chest in anticipation to...whatever was about to go down. Talkin’ or otherwise.</p><p>The Tyger Claws turned to Ward as soon as they were within reasonable distance. One of them paced around the truck while the other, in typical Tyger fashion, sneered and clutched his belly, taunting.</p><p>“What’s up piglet? Got yourself a new output?”</p><p>Ward didn’t come off as one to fall prey to a game of petty twit. Sure enough, he barely reacted to the insult. “Step aside, Lugg. Your boyfriend got sent up for years.” He cocked his head, rational but menacing. “Doubt you want the same.”</p><p>“No, no,” Claw with an overwhelming amount of gel in his blue hair cackled, the sound distorted from cervical implants. “Your new output’s gonna see what happens to piglets that don’t get it.”</p><p>Then dude did the inexcusable. Walked up to her bike—minding its own business a meter or two away from Ward’s truck—and leaned his entire fuckin’ weight on it.</p><p>“I were you, I’d get that grimy ass off my ride.”</p><p>Both Claws sprained their necks to stare at her, as though they hadn’t even noticed her up until now. The second guy, the one with a waterfall of pink hair falling in his eyes, eyed her up and down. The large grin that spread across his face showed off chrome-covered teeth.</p><p>“Heh, what do we got here?”</p><p>Pink fucker approached her, analyzing her every detail and sniffing the air. “Who’s the clown, Ward? Looks yummy.” He passed his tongue over his lips. “Smells yummy, too.”</p><p>“<em>Urgh </em>,” Johnny complained as if the call had been made towards him.</p><p>But V had seen her fair share of dimwits. Pieces of trash didn’t only soil the ground of Night City—they breathed the polluted air of Rancho Coronado, laid by their swimming pool in North Oak or whistled at joytoys on JigJig Street. Some even ate spoonfuls of sand in the badlands.</p><p>Needless to say, it was easy not to react when the pink fucker licked his lips right in front of her face. Ward shifted beside her, brows frowned and eyes constantly jumping from her to the Tyger Claw.</p><p>V smirked, defying the Claw with her demon lookin’ glare, as Johnny would call it. “As I said,” she switched target, addressing the blue gonk in the back. “Get your ass off my bike.”</p><p>The blue Claw jumped in place, as if pumping himself up. “Heh heh, or what? Huh, clown?” He walked over to his boyfriend, elbowing him. “How ‘bout we see how high she jumps, eh?”</p><p>Pink fucker guffawed, digging into his pocket to pull out a blade. “Jump clown, jump!”</p><p>Ducking the blade thrown at her head, V unsheathed a knife of her own and dashed over to him, plunging it in his neck. The guy’s eyes widened while he clutched at his throat, choking on his own blood. The other Claw yelled and cursed, but was put down by one of Ward’s bullets before he could lunge anywhere near V.</p><p>It was over before it even started. </p><p>A handful of panicked residents scurried out of the parking lot, with a few even leaving the market altogether, cursing this city and everything that came with it. V stared down at her victim as he crumbled to the ground in a mess of gushing blood, then wiped her cheek with a resigned sigh.</p><p>Her temporary partner backed up against the wall, scratching his head as he took in the slaughterous mess they’d made. “Goddamnit.” </p><p>“Sorry,” V muttered, her eyes finding him. Though she couldn’t be bothered to feel all that bad. These guys had been walking around with their dicks in their mouths, and had gotten themselves killed. All there was to it.</p><p>Ward placed his revolver back in its cozy nest, prompting V to clean her blade and do the same. “Real talk—walkin’ the streets with you? Downright unsafe.” She told him as a humorless scoff escaped. “Got beef with all gangs or just the Tygers?”</p><p>While his cybernetic eye blinked at her, Ward crossed his arms. “I’m a cop, whaddaya think?” Then he released a sigh of his own. “Urgh... Gotta report this.”</p><p>What was this she heard? Reluctance to follow through with official NCPD protocols?</p><p>“What about your CI?” V asked, taking a step sideways to prevent the puddle of blood from reaching her boots. “The Red Queen’s Race?”</p><p>She might’ve consciously accepted to work with a cop, but they’d agreed on doing things her way, hadn’t they? </p><p>Ward’s organic eye veiled itself behind a curtain of shadows, as if he’d forgotten who he was dealing with. Not so keen on working with a merc, after all? Too bad, this had been his idea to begin with.</p><p>“We’ll get to it. First I gotta clean up this mess.” His hands found his hips; an officer getting to work. “You can wait for me if you want, it won’t take more than an hour. Just gotta call this in.” The brown eye studied her, like he was hesitant to speak the last bit on his mind. “I’d stay away, though. I’m guessin’ you wouldn’t want the NCPD to poke around your lawn.”</p><p>Hmph, he guessed right.</p><p> </p><p>✕</p><p> </p><p>The sun was beginning to set over Night City as V pulled up behind Ward’s truck, the evening glow giving the streets a false sense of beauty. V turned her bike’s ignition off and looked up at the store’s humongous, tacky banner, biting her tongue to keep her remark to herself.</p><p>MAX-IMUM PLEASURE</p><p>Name flickering in pink neon lights. Surrounded by a couple of blue neon dildos.</p><p>“<em>Urgh, fuck me. </em>”</p><p>Johnny appeared on the sidewalk, admiring the banner in all its glory with a snigger. “<em>Certainly at the right place for that. </em>”</p><p>Wise ass.</p><p>V made her way to Ward’s parked truck and came up to his rolled down window, leaning on the steel door and catching her own reflection in the side-view mirror.</p><p>“Couldn’t take me some place less trashy, huh?”</p><p>He blinked repeatedly, glancing at the mannequin in the vitrine dressed in leather lingerie. His eyes bounced back to hers, lips parting as if at a loss for words and—was that the beginning of a flush settling like freckles across his cheeks?</p><p>“Uh—”</p><p>V broke into a soft laugh, tilting her head. “I’m messin’ with ‘ya, River.”</p><p>She wasn’t sure if it was the chain yankin’ or the use of his first name that startled him. Regardless, she skimmed past the slip up as if it had never happened. </p><p>“So, your guy’s in there?” </p><p>She saw Ward’s hands tighten on the wheel, and within the next second he was back in the skin of a hard-boiled detective. “Yeah, owns the place. Got all sorts of clients, as I’m sure you can imagine.” He gave a one-shoulder shrug. “He’s also nosy as hell, knows all about everyone. And if that wasn’t enough, he’s a coward.” Wit played at his lips. “Perfect combo.”</p><p>V scoffed in response. “You comin’ with?”</p><p>“I think it’s better if you go alone. It...uh,” Ward scratched his chin, looking up at the ceiling of his truck. “Didn’t go so well for him, last time we met. Think you got a better chance gettin’ him to talk without me. At least, voluntarily.”</p><p>Clicking her tongue as she threw a second glance at the store awaiting her, V nodded. “Alright. What’s he look like?”</p><p>Ward’s upper lip twitched, as if he was amused by that simple question. “You’ll know when you see him, trust me. Tell him Igor says hi, he’ll understand quick enough.”</p><p>“Okay,” V pushed herself off Ward’s truck. “Be back in a jif.”</p><p>The overwhelming amount of bright pinks and purples was pretty much what V had expected, based on the outside appeal. So was the tiger-striped carpet glued to the floor, or the extravagant sets of dildos displayed oh so proudly. V couldn’t say she’d ever been particularly attracted to pay secret visits to businesses like these. More often than not, the people you found lingering in there were regulars—dudes who had the tendency to make her skin crawl with distaste.</p><p>But hey, she wasn’t one to judge. Sex sold, and if there was something that would never change, that was it. Whatever rocked your boat was fair play—as long as it stayed within the privacy of your own four walls.</p><p>As she approached the counter, V spotted the man standing by, ready to pounce. He ended his call and put his phone away as soon as he noticed her—greasy bangs, oily skin visible from a mile away, golden bling sitting at his wrist. This was the guy, beyond the shadow of a doubt.</p><p>“You lookin’ for uh, general inspiration,” he purred as he drew closer to the counter, shimmying. “Or somethin’ specific?” His grin expanded. “Cause I can help with both.”</p><p>Feeling the tingle of a quick game of cat and mouse run up her spine, V smirked and inched closer to him by propping her front arms on the counter.</p><p>“Igor says hi.”</p><p>There were no words to describe how satisfying it was to see pure, stripped-back panic spread across the guy’s face. Like setting a cotton ball on fire.</p><p>“Fuck no!” He backtracked as if he’d come face to face with a Scav—aborting his mission in less time than it takes to say ‘cunt’. The door to the storage room slid open. “I said I was done! I was out!”</p><p>Aaaand then he made a run for it.</p><p>V didn’t even need to hurry as she jumped over the counter and forced through the locked door, tailing Ward’s CI right out the store and into the back alley. Tsk tsk, better add ‘dumbass’ to his list of credentials.</p><p>“Fuuuuck,” the guy whined as he came face to face with Ward, then frantically turned back to see V closing in on him.</p><p>Ward wore the smile of a predator, one that caught V by surprise. “Heeey, Neil.”</p><p>“You’re right,” V said as she placed her hands on her hips—casually intimidating. “He is a coward.”</p><p>Neil’s face contorted itself in a mix between panic and anger. “Piss off.” He tried to push past Ward, with little to no luck.</p><p>Ward knocked him against the wall, causing Neil to nearly trip in a pile of junk, littered at his feet.</p><p>“Relax,” Ward enunciated as he pulled his revolver on poor little Neil. “Just got one question to ask you.”</p><p>Some rando passerby stopped to stare at the scene with wide eyes, eliciting a slow turn of Ward’s head. “Nothin’ to see here, sir.” </p><p>But the guy didn’t budge. Feet sinking into cement.</p><p>“C’mon,” V insisted, urging him to move along until he finally listened. “Ghost.” </p><p>Meanwhile, Neil found himself surrounded and empty handed. “Lemme alone, got it? Can’t make me do a damn thing!” Words that might’ve sounded courageous, had his raised hands not been trembling like a child hiked up on sugar.</p><p>Frankly, wouldn’t be surprising to see him piss his pants in the next minute.</p><p>“Red Queen’s Race.” V stated, stealing Neil’s attention. “Give us the address, and we’re gone.”</p><p>His double chin quivered as he retorted. “Heard that already last time. Then those motherfuckers showed, broke all my fingers.”</p><p>Alright. Guy might’ve been a filthy, corrupted fuck, but did that alone warrant threats, most likely to cause him nightmares for the rest of his pathetic life?</p><p>Shooting a quick glance at Ward and sparing a thought for his personal code of conduct, V decided to play it good-cop bad-cop.</p><p>“Wasn’t here then. Now I am.” She crossed her arms, giving him a decisive look. “I’ll make sure nothin’ happens to you.”</p><p>Seemed Ward was on board with the approach, cause he jumped right in. “Anyone asks, we’ll say we got the address off a body we fished out of the bay.”</p><p>Neil hesitated, visibly munching at his inner cheek with clear anxiety. “Urghhh, fine!” He shook his head, as if to forget he was even speaking the words out loud. “It’s outside city limits, near the river. Bonita street area.”</p><p>“You been there?”</p><p>Prompted by the barrel of Ward’s gun still aimed at his head, Neil hurriedly answered. “Made some deliveries—goods, sometimes peeps. But honestly, got no idea why you wanna go pokin’ around there. Club’s empty, they shut it all down!”</p><p>“Shut it down?” Ward echoed. “Before or after Mayor Rhyne died?”</p><p>V flicked her attention back to Neil, anticipating the answer like a cub waiting on a piece of raw meat.</p><p>“Uhhh...soon after, I guess.”</p><p>Bingo.</p><p>Momentarily meeting V’s eyes, Ward put his gun away. “Thanks, Neil.” Said man dropped his hands, slowly but surely.</p><p>“My shit luck!” He cursed as he paced back to his store, tail between his legs.</p><p>V watched him disappear inside his establishment, then turned to Ward—a man whose hopes had been restored.</p><p>“Well, that’s what I call a breakthrough,” he mused, eagerness and curiosity dancing across his features for the first time today. “I’m headin’ there right away. You still up for it?”</p><p>V scoffed, the smile that stretched her lips enough of an indication. “You kiddin’?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Bark Bark, Bitch</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
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<p>◾5: BARK BARK, BITCH◾</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Animals’ turf, huh?”</p>
<p>Night had long settled over Night City by the time V and River got to the given address. The sky was free of any sky-scrapers, stained a beautiful shade of dark blue, and the streets were quiet. A rare combination, and V found herself inhaling the fresh air with a certain placidity, despite the unknown danger waiting for her across the street. Eh, who was she kidding, she’d never turn away a good rush of adrenaline.</p>
<p>Being so close to the outskirts had its benefits—after all, the badlands couldn’t be more than half a mile away, and it showed. The typical stench of the city was faint enough to blissfully ignore. A pleasant change of pace, all in all.</p>
<p>Joining River on the sidewalk, V leaned on the ramp to oversee the target building in question—a warehouse. She glanced up at him as she arched a brow. “Any sly cop rules for talkin’ to ‘em?”</p>
<p>She knew she was prodding, but after a day of working alongside a cop, V was surprised to see she didn’t despise it as much as she’d expected. Never hated badges as much as Johnny did, but couldn’t say she was their biggest fan, either. Regardless, instead of coming out of the experience with an indifferent or even sour taste in her mouth, V found her curiosity growing.</p>
<p>And it seemed to be insatiable.</p>
<p>River exhaled loudly, something similar to a laugh escaping his lips. “Scratch their tummies, don’t expose their throats…”</p>
<p>“Pfft,” V rolled her eyes, though her smile betrayed her—strangely enough, this was exactly the type of answer she’d been hoping for. “Hah-fucking-hah.”</p>
<p>She felt River’s gaze linger on her a second too long before he moved on. “Regardless, they’re not so keen on <em> pigs </em>either.” He emphasized the insult, shaking his head as if recalling the incident with the Tyger Claws. “And we’re short a warrant.”</p>
<p>V caught her tongue between her teeth, narrowing her eyes at River. “Uh-huh...which means?”</p>
<p>She was playing dumb, watching closely for his response.</p>
<p>River met her deceptive glare, only to blink away a moment later. “I’m afraid you’re, uh, on your own.”</p>
<p>And again, the guy caught her by surprise. Seemed to feel genuinely bad about it. Well, how about that...</p>
<p>Maybe it was wrong to continue toying with him like this, maybe not, but damn, it’d been a long minute since V had had this much harmless fun, just...talkin’ to someone.</p>
<p>Had almost forgotten what it felt like.</p>
<p>“Hm,” she hummed, pretending to reconsider. “Seems to me like I’m handlin’ a whole lotta the job on my own, don’t you think?”</p>
<p>He didn’t take the bait. Even called her out on her bullshit—shoulders squaring, brown eye up for the challenge. “If I recall correctly, weren’t you the one who said, and I quote: I do things the way I always do ‘em, and you don’t get in my way.” He cocked an eyebrow, laying down his cards to reveal a full house.</p>
<p>Well...shit.</p>
<p>Barely able to contain her grin, V allowed a short scoff to slip through. “Heh, fine. ‘Ya got me.” She raised her chin in his direction. “Nice imitation, by the way.”</p>
<p>River shrugged, though the amusement on his features was obvious. “Ah, come on. My voice doesn’t range that high.”</p>
<p>Before V could respond to that, she saw River’s optical implant turning blue and her own vision displaying an incoming call. She answered it, making sure to keep the connection open.</p>
<p>“I’ll be listenin’ the whole time, so if you find anything, or if you’re suddenly stuck in a ditch, holler and I’ll be there in a flash.”</p>
<p>Flashing a preem sign with her fingers, V started walking backwards. Her boots scraped the gravel as she hopped off the sidewalk, leaving River to stand under that lone lamp post on his own. </p>
<p>“Sounds good. Catch you on the flip side.”</p>
<p>Unfortunately, Johnny’s voice broke the peaceful silence not a minute later. “<em>Y’know, watching you two half-commiting to flirting is fuckin’ embarrassing. </em>”</p>
<p>V scoffed, the sound staying within the safety of her mind. “<em>If you think that was flirting, I feel sorry for all the women who once agreed to sleep with you. </em>”</p>
<p>That pompous snigger had probably been dying to come forth. “<em>Heh,</em>” Johnny uttered, the cockiness practically oozing out of his pixelated pores. “<em>Wouldn’t feel too sorry for ‘em, if I were you. Too bad you’ll never get to experience it yourself, V</em>.”</p>
<p>Well, walked right into that one, didn’t she? “<em>Urgh. Fuckin’ ew, Johnny. </em>”</p>
<p>Using her Kiroshi optics system to zoom in on the warehouse gated lane, V pinpointed a single Animal inside the entrance booth. She crouched behind a dismantled piece of junk car to scan the area for any surveillance cameras. From where she was hiding she spotted two cams on high-alert and deactivated them with a simple quickhack—first netrunning ability she’d learned from T-Bug, and honestly, a piece of cake.</p>
<p>V approached the booth with stealth, making sure to avoid being detected as she climbed the fence and swung her legs over the barbed wire to pull herself flat on top of the roof. She then shimmied over to the edge and steadily lowered herself to her legs, hands firmly grabbing onto the eaves until her feet landed on the ground without a sound. </p>
<p>Still in a crouched position, V drew nearer to the Animal with their back turned—a relatively stubby woman who was very unlikely to pose any problem. It was only a couple seconds from the moment she grabbed the woman’s neck to having her passed out in her grip, rendered immobile and unconscious. V propped her against the wall in a sitting position, most optimal to delay anyone finding her.</p>
<p>V promptly hacked into the computer, accessing the network in order to disable the entire outdoor surveillance system. Before stepping back outside, she reached into her holster to take hold of her silenced pistol—Chaos now very comfortably sitting in her hand.</p>
<p>The rest proved to be as easy; swiftly avoiding contact with a scouting Animal, V waited for him to walk off to the other side of the perimeter before she eliminated the only beast blocking the entry to the building. With that out of the way, she dragged the still-breathing jacked-up body to the side to hide it and sneaked inside the warehouse, unnoticed.</p>
<p>Frankly, surveillance was substandard. And that meant one of two things. Either Animals were getting a little too cocky and letting their guards down, either the Red’s Queen’s Race wasn’t as reputable a business as they might’ve been led to believe.</p>
<p>For the sake of both her job and River’s case, V sure hoped it was the first one.</p>
<p>“I’m inside.” V whispered after doing a rundown of the interior and taking cover under a flight of stairs—somewhat secluded enough to talk. “Honestly, seems like a normal body shop to me.”</p>
<p>Static jounced in her ears before River answered. “Club’s here, I’m tellin’ ya.”</p>
<p>“Is that your cop intuition?”</p>
<p>A hesitation. “Somethin’ like that.”</p>
<p>The line went quiet, and V returned her attention to her surroundings. She analyzed the first floor, then poked her head out to scan the upper level, only to catch sight of a computer terminal left unattended in the controls room. And no more than two Animals guarding the floor. </p>
<p>Bingo. </p>
<p>Lips quirking, V was about to step out of the shadows when suddenly, the loud and obnoxious voice of an Animal made her blood freeze in her veins.</p>
<p>“Yo, Brad!”</p>
<p>V quickly backed up until her back grazed the wall, urging her body into stasis mode. </p>
<p>“Brad, get out here!”</p>
<p>Seemed Brad finally heard. “The fuck you want, Riggs?!” He called out in a raucous voice that bounced off the walls of the warehouse.</p>
<p>“You seen Carlson anywhere?”</p>
<p>Heavy footsteps made the steel of the stairs shake. “Why?”</p>
<p>There was the sound of the first guy flinging his assault rifle around—probably exasperated. “Cause he ain’t at his post, dumbass!” </p>
<p>“Well I didn’t see shit!” Brad barked back. “Prolly went out for a piss, chill the fuck down.”</p>
<p>The first guy grumbled some incoherent mumbo jumbo as he turned on his heels, making his way back outside. </p>
<p>Meanwhile, Brad complained under his breath, the flash of his veiny-arm coming into view for a split second before disappearing back upstairs. “Fuckin’ rookie.”</p>
<p>“V, everything okay?” River asked in the privacy of her ear.</p>
<p>She released a quiet breath and answered, composed. “Preem.”</p>
<p>V waited a while, five minutes give or take, before she dared come out of her safe haven. Better make sure neither Brad nor Riggs were trailing back here first, unless she felt like engaging in a rabid fight to the death—claws out, hisses, piloerection...the whole kit.</p>
<p>She gracefully made her way up the stairs, the silence in the room a drastic contrast to a moment ago and almost overbearing. Probably could’ve heard a pin drop, almost like the place was suddenly vacant.</p>
<p>But as V crept close to the window of the controls room, she quickly discovered the reason why no one seemed to be patrolling the area. Dear old Brad had his hands full—halfway down his pants while he stared at the TV streaming a very explicit episode of Watson Whore.</p>
<p>Despite his...distracted state, Brad was massive. Built like a tank in a way that strongly suggested an abuse of ultra-testosterones. His neck so damn thick, the odds of a surprise attack backfiring were too high for V’s taste.</p>
<p>With the next step of her plan already processed in her mind, V slowly raised Chaos, finger on the trigger. She held her breath as she opened the sliding door, the sound startling Brad enough to cause his muscles to twitch. Unfortunately for him, a silenced bullet from Chaos’ cylinder was already long fired and settled deep into the mushy matter of his brain.</p>
<p>His body went rigid with shock before going limp. V slid across the floor to catch his terrifyingly dense corpse before it could plonk down on the floor—but the dead weight proved to be too much even for her and Brad’s head hit the ground with a loud thump.</p>
<p>“Shit,” she cursed through tight teeth.</p>
<p>“V,” River’s voice rang in her eardrum, cutting through an incoming series of footsteps right outside the room. “What’s—”</p>
<p>The opposite door opened to reveal another Animal; skin-tight tank top and slicked back hairdo. “Brad, the fuck is—”</p>
<p>The second bullet penetrated his skull before he could muster another syllable, blood-shot eyes going wide before the body collapsed on the floor, sharing his choom’s fate.</p>
<p>“Urgh,” V lowered Chaos and tried to push Brad’s lifeless sack o’ meat off her. Ashamed to admit, her pulse was racing by the time she was up on her feet, free at last.</p>
<p>River’s concerned voice came back a second later. “V, the hell just happened?” </p>
<p>“Had no choice but to zero two of ‘em.” </p>
<p>“Went unnoticed?” </p>
<p>V gave a quick look around; the silence was back. Maybe not for long, but for now, all was clear. “Think so. Gonna have a look at their computer.”</p>
<p>“Okay,” River answered. “Keep me in the know.”</p>
<p>“Will do.” She stepped over the corpse blocking the access to the computer. “<em> Sorry, Brad. </em>”</p>
<p>Johnny manifested in the corner of the room, cig in between his lips. “‘<em> Least the poor bastard had a decent death. </em>”</p>
<p>The dramatic moans coming from the TV mixed in with Johnny’s comment, as if to further prove his point. But the noise pollution wasn’t nearly enough to distract V from hacking her way into the computer’s database and a handful of clicks later, she was in the surveillance system, jumping into remote takeover.</p>
<p>And what she saw made her smirk break out.</p>
<p>“Well, Detective. Happy to report you were right.”</p>
<p>River immediately hopped on. “You find it?”</p>
<p>V shook her head, momentarily forgetting he couldn’t see it. “Not yet, but got live cam footage. And there’s one overlooking the inside of the club.”</p>
<p>“Good,” River answered, the resolve audible in his voice. “Keep lookin’.”</p>
<p>Fully aware that it was only a matter of time before someone got suspicious or uncovered a body, V slipped out of the room and dropped down to the ground floor.</p>
<p>“<em>Alright, if I wanted to hide a whole ass club in here, where would I put it? </em>”</p>
<p>She looked for a concealed trap, a secret doorway, a hidden ladder. Nothing.</p>
<p>“<em>You know, </em> ” Johnny chimed in, perched up on an intermodal container with his feet dangling. “<em>Either it ain’t here, either it’s right under your nose. </em>”</p>
<p>As tempting as it was to ignore Johnny’s very distinctive grain of salt, V stopped to reconsider. She studied Johnny’s devil-may-care demeanor, letting her gaze drop from his weathered shoes to the shipping container under his ass. </p>
<p>She squinted, noticing the handle seemed somewhat overused compared to the others, with its padlock hanging off the side. She listened to her instinct and reached out, pushing the large doors open with a rusty creaking sound.</p>
<p>Then she scoffed, glancing at Johnny. “<em>How the hell d’you know? </em>”</p>
<p>He shrugged, pushing his shades up on his nose. “<em>Didn’t </em>.”</p>
<p>With an incredulous shake of her head, V lowered her eyes to take in the stairs—dimmed in red mood lighting and leading down to a secret elevator.</p>
<p>“Found it.” She said for River’s benefit, starting to make her way down the stairs. “Gotta say, pretty clever hideout, for a pack of Animals.”</p>
<p>She could practically hear the smile in River’s voice. “Nicely done, V.”</p>
<p>As she got to the bottom of the stairs, V studied the elevator in question, finding nothing that particularly raised any red-flags. “Seems everything’s in—”</p>
<p>“INTRUDER, OVER HERE!”</p>
<p>The sudden scream that came from the top of the stairs didn’t have time to startle V before she was twisting around and dodging a bullet. She barely registered River’s voice calling her name before she raised Chaos and fired at her enemy one, two, three times. The body of her recent victim crumpled down, only to reveal two other Animals, both of whom still-standing and very much enraged.</p>
<p>One of them came at her with the speed of a fuckin’ cougar. V fired her gun out of basic survival instinct, the bullets hitting flesh but repeatedly missing a clear headshot. And when the harsh reality of an empty cylinder dawned on her, V reached for her knife and plunged it in the Animal’s head without hesitation. Just in time to avoid her own head getting chewed off.</p>
<p>The other beast, as big as Brad if not bigger, growled at her as he charged. He didn’t have a weapon in hand—V couldn’t decide whether that was good or bad.</p>
<p>“You fuckin’ bitch,” he snarled, the veins popping out on his forehead. “Imma crush your fuckin’ skull!”</p>
<p>Okay, probably bad.</p>
<p>The beast lunged at her before V could even begin to reload her pistol, knocking the weapon straight out of her hands. Thankfully, she had some experience fighting large racks of meat like this one. And in those predicaments, there was only one thing she could do.</p>
<p>Use her speed to her advantage.</p>
<p>She jumped on top of the brute before he had any chance of landing a hit, knowing full well the damage that alone could do. From up on his back she circled his neck with both her arms, constricting his airway as hard as she could. The beast gave a loud grunt, reaching for V’s leg and successfully taking hold of it before she could avert the assault.</p>
<p>He swung her over and threw her on the floor like a sack of potatoes, momentarily knocking the air out of her lungs. With her vision blotchy, it was with no more than a second to spare that V saw the beast throw himself down to crush her with his entire fuckin’ weight. She rolled sideways to avoid the hit, hearing the beast’s elbow fissure the ground and using the momentum to reach for her forgotten blade.</p>
<p>But the beast was back on his feet faster than she’d hoped and sent her into the wall with a sudden blow to her shoulder. The impact caused pain to shoot through her nerves—her scream interrupted by his hand closing around her throat and lifting her feet off the ground.</p>
<p>V didn’t bother trying to wiggle out and instead stabbed him as close to his heart as she could manage—the deafening sound of shots being fired reverberating against the steel walls at that exact same moment.</p>
<p>Time seemed to hang by a thread as the grip on her throat slackened and the beast collapsed in front of her. V fell to her feet while her knees gave out, a coughing fit claiming control of her body and proving impossible to fight back.</p>
<p>“V! <em> Shit </em>—take your time.” It took a moment to remember the voice—logic eventually gluing the pieces together. She looked up at River and blinked repeatedly, urging the image to fall into place. “Are you wounded?”</p>
<p>As she began to catch her breath, V shook her head. “No I—” Her voice was hoarse and triggered another cough. “I’m okay.”</p>
<p>She pushed herself up and confirmed the stability of her legs, then tried to roll her shoulders back, only to hiss at the shooting pain in her right shoulder.</p>
<p>“Easy, easy,” River said as he tucked his revolver behind his belt to place a hand on her back, as if expecting her to suddenly collapse or lose balance. </p>
<p>V gritted her teeth together. “It’s fine. Just dislocated.” She scoffed to emphasize the ‘fine’ part. “Bastard must’ve smashed it in.”</p>
<p> She felt River’s brown eye carefully studying her. Maybe waiting for any sign of weakness, maybe regretting his decision to temporarily partner up with a nutcase. Eventually, he released a breath, as if somewhat relieved.</p>
<p>“Glad you think it’s funny.” His tone was light, almost a little playful. Just as V was about to crack a joke to back her case, River looked down at the beast’s lifeless body—a sight apparently alarming enough to set off another one of his frowns. “Jesus Christ, V. The guy’s over three times your size.”</p>
<p>She looked up at River from under her long eyelashes, right arm limp at her side. “Yep,” she popped the last letter. “And thank god you showed up when you did, ‘cause I mighta been strangled to death by now.”</p>
<p>V began to reach down to gather her belongings, putting her bloody knife back in its sheath, then reloading Chaos with suboptimal dexterity. She glanced up to find River staring at her with that characteristically broody gaze of his, his lips tightly shut.</p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>He met her eyes, seemed to chew his words before answering. “Just...surprised you’re so carefree when it comes to your own life.”</p>
<p>The words washed off her resolve like a bucket of cold water down her back. Again, reality snaked back in with a sinking feeling that, no matter how much she’d try to ignore it, death was waiting at her doorstep. And it wasn’t going anywhere. Throwing yourself in the lion’s den doesn’t matter so damn much if you’re already doomed.</p>
<p>“Yeah, well.” She tore her eyes away from River’s. “It is what it is.”</p>
<p>Maybe her tone had shifted enough for him to get the hint, either consciously or not, because a moment later he’d dropped the matter entirely.</p>
<p>River’s eyes drifted to her fucked-up joint, and he heaved a sigh. “We might be better off leavin’ and comin’ back tomorrow night.”</p>
<p>V nearly choked on her own tongue. “You kiddin’? In a few hours this place will be crawling with vermin, and that’s if they don’t burn down the place altogether.” She shook her head, determined. “Uh-uh, we’re goin’ in now.”</p>
<p>Despite the fact that they’d only known each other for less than twenty-four hours, River seemed to understand that arguing with her was futile. “Fine. But you’re gonna need that shoulder popped back in.”</p>
<p>On that, they could agree. “Right.”</p>
<p>Before she could figure out what the proper protocol was to ask a guy you just met to fix your disjointed shoulder for you, River was already moving into position. He took her elbow within his palm and held onto her shoulder for support, the contrast between the warmth of his organic hand and the cold of his implant instantly perceptible. His skin was rough on her newly formed bruises, but not unpleasantly so.</p>
<p>V swallowed at the contact, telling herself it was from apprehension of the pain that was soon to follow. “I trust you won’t cause me permanent nerve damage,” she said, perhaps trying to lighten the mood.</p>
<p>His Adam’s apple bobbed as he quietly laughed, his jaw visibly clenching. “I wouldn’t worry. Fixed a few joints back in my day.”</p>
<p>“Hm,” V hummed, her gaze glued to some random crack on the ground. Something about the setting was throwing her off, and she couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes. “‘Suppose I’ll have to believe you.”</p>
<p>River didn’t add anything to that. “Ready?”</p>
<p>She nodded. “Please don’t pretend to count down to one when you’re actually gonna—”</p>
<p>
  <em> POP </em>
</p>
<p>V raised her fist to her mouth in an impulsive urge to bite back a cuss. The pain was dissipating as soon as it had appeared, and she turned to River’s raised brow. </p>
<p>“You were sayin’?”</p>
<p>She shook her right arm to test it, then rolled her shoulder back a few times as she broke into a soft laugh. “Alright. I might’ve underestimated you, Detective Ward.”</p>
<p>V heard River scoff as she reached out to press the button to the elevator, seeing no reason to delay the inevitable any longer. She then turned back to him, hoping her words would come off as genuine to him as they did to her.</p>
<p>“Seriously, thank you,” She held the weight of his gaze, offering an apologetic head tilt. “And—sorry about your warrant.”</p>
<p>River shrugged, his expression surprisingly unclouded. “Eh, it is what it is.” He dipped his chin, a knowing look in his eyes. “Right?”</p>
<p>She digested his words, the same ones that teased the corner of her lips. “Right.”</p>
<p>The elevator to the Red Queen’s Race suddenly beeped as the doors opened, cutting off any straying thoughts V might’ve had trouble navigating.</p>
<p>Showtime.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Just a quick note to say I'll start taking a bit more creative liberty going forward with the story:) Hope you all enjoyed this chapter!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Drop the Blindfold</h2></a>
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<p>
  <strong>◾6: DROP THE BLINDFOLD◾</strong>
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<p> </p>
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<p>V readied herself for an ambush before the elevator reached the lowest floor—Chaos switched to her left hand while River moved to her right. But when the elevator doors opened to reveal the inside of the club, they were met with a somewhat anticlimactic greeting. </p>
<p>There were no trace of enraged gangoons in the entrance lobby. No guns blazing at them, no grenades thrown and no packs of muscle twitching to fight behind doors. Not even an insult tossed their way.</p>
<p>As any other self-proclaimed underground club, the Red Queen’s Race didn’t do things halfway when it came to decor. The interior was dark, barely illuminated by mists of red light which poured into the room and created a cloudy, claustrophobic atmosphere. Behind the counter, endless bottles of booze populated the shelves, as if hard liquor thrived in this environment like climbing plants on an outdoor wall. </p>
<p>While the center displayed silent holographic dancers, the side of the room split off in numerous private booths. It was easy to imagine how a typical Friday night would play out in here—lines of drugs, used syringes shoved in the couch cushions, soiled underwear, suitcases filled with scratch or encrypted shards. Frankly, it was hard to picture a politician such as Rhyne willingly stepping even an inch of his freshly-waxed shoe in this place.</p>
<p>Unless, as any good corrupt suit, he bore some nasty secrets of his own, and needed a certain level of privacy. One legal establishments couldn’t offer.</p>
<p>All in all, this place gave off a strange vibe. Clashed somewhere between classy and trashy, and that raised red-flags.</p>
<p>Making eye contact with River without lowering her pistol, V nodded at his silent question, then stepped out of the elevator, on high-alert. The club’s automatic doors opened, revealing a sight which had previously been hidden. The floor was littered with trash, sofas turned over and formerly-blank walls now covered in graffitis. A soft, electric tune flowed from the speakers and into the room, enough to talk over but barely louder than a background hum.</p>
<p>“Well,” V broke the silence first, keeping her voice low. “Someone really wanted to cover up...whatever it was that went down.”</p>
<p>She threw a quick scan across the room, making sure no gonk was lurking around waiting to blow their spine to pieces. With the area seemingly clear, V was about to disable the only camera overlooking the room, only to notice it had already been busted.</p>
<p>“What should we be lookin’ for, exactly?” V asked as she turned to River.</p>
<p>River examined the counter, peeling off the cover page of a screamsheet—the thin paper damp with some unknown substance. He frowned in disgust, his revolver lowered at thigh level. “Somethin’ that looks like an office? Every club has one.”</p>
<p>“Alright.”</p>
<p>Peering into each of the private booths proved to be a waste of time. Nothing more than abandoned piles of sticky shot glasses and packs of condoms. That is, until V drew the glittery makeshift curtain of the last stall, witnessing an Animal sprawled out across the electric blue couch; lost in some twisted BD porn with his dick out and his mouth hanging open.</p>
<p>If there were sights V wished she could wipe from her memory, this would probably make the list.</p>
<p>She must’ve made some kind of face when she whipped around and shook her head clear, because River looked at her with a concerned frown on his face.</p>
<p>“Found somethin’ in there?”</p>
<p>He was already making his way toward the booth in question, which urged V to raise a palm to stop him in his tracks.</p>
<p>“Nothin’ you wanna see,” she scoffed, tapping his shoulder as she moved past him. “Trust me.”</p>
<p>Even though River arched a brow at her entailment, he didn’t push it. Instead, he moved on and followed closely behind her.</p>
<p>With their mouths shut and their eyes watchful, V and River walked past the holographic dancers, heading for the back door located directly behind the counter.</p>
<p>Despite being so easy to access from the main area, the room seemed like its own little world. It was tinted in a green hue, with empty shelves and handguns stashed in a separate compartment. Dishes cluttered the counter and a generic <em> Taste the Love </em> vending machine sat by the door, suggesting it served the purpose of an employee-only break room.</p>
<p>Bottom line, this was nowhere near the office they were looking for.</p>
<p>Opening another door led into an adjacent hallway with its entire own set of doors, almost reminiscent of a goddamn motel floor.</p>
<p>“<em>This place’s like a fuckin’ rat maze, </em>” Johnny, who had been curiously quiet up until now, chimed in. </p>
<p>V damn well couldn’t disagree. “<em>No kiddin’ </em>.”</p>
<p>Though right as she crossed the invisible threshold, V caught a glimpse of an XXXL combat boot rounding the corner and instinctively backed up, plunging back into the safety of the break room. She bumped into something hard, something she hadn’t expected to be in the way and her left hand tightened around Chaos, waiting to see if the sound of the impact had reached the enemy’s ears while silently praying it hadn’t. With her suboptimal shoulder, the last thing she wanted was to get into another face-off.</p>
<p>Being quick on the uptake, River didn’t say a thing as he slowly and silently detached himself from V’s back. Even through the multiple layers of their respective jackets, V could feel that warmth, the same one as she’d felt on his organic hand no more than fifteen minutes ago, dissipate as soon as he backed off.</p>
<p>With a finger to her lips, she bent her neck to look at him, then quietly mouthed ‘Animal’ as she pointed to her right, in the target direction.</p>
<p>Perhaps the result of years of training on the force, but River seemed like the kind of guy who didn’t need things hyperbolically spelled out for him. And honestly, it was like a breath of fresh air. Especially as he nodded and moved into position, approaching a neighboring door while his feet near glided on the carpeted floor. For such a big guy, he moved with particularly quiet steps.</p>
<p>River waited a beat or two, bending his ear to make out the footsteps—and thus, the number of goons—on the other side of the wall, before jumping into action. He opened the sliding door and slipped out just in time to catch the Animal in the middle of a yawn. Before the poor guy could properly widen his eyes or even make a peep, River had him in a tight neck-lock and dragged into the room, away from potential eyes. It was only a matter of seconds before the Animal’s neck was snapped and his body—denser than River’s but evidently not stronger—was falling limp in River’s arms.</p>
<p>Having witnessed the entire scene from the sidelines, V couldn’t find the means to justify her sudden mutism. Apparently neither could Johnny, because he didn’t spit any snarky comments.</p>
<p>Meanwhile, River hauled the heavy corpse into a standing position, a muted groan slipping past his lips at the effort, and dropped him in the conveniently located closet.</p>
<p>When he closed the closet, as softly as if he had just been in the middle of playing with fucking kittens, River turned back to an openly gawking V, his chest heaving slightly and his brows furrowed.</p>
<p>“Everythin’ ok?”</p>
<p>She had to stifle a cough, blinking away as if to pull herself back down to earth. “Yeah—Of course.”</p>
<p>But River apparently felt the need to further explain himself. “We’re too close to our goal to let one guy ruin it all.”</p>
<p>Huh, interesting. So Detective River Ward wasn’t above killing people, but that didn’t mean he didn’t carry the guilt of it with every step he next took.</p>
<p>Pretending she wasn’t in the middle of psychoanalyzing him, V scoffed quietly, offering him a reassuring shrug. “Agreed.”</p>
<p>In the moments that followed, V and River managed to leave the break room unnoticed. Every step carried a surplus of effort to stay quiet, what with the background beats gradually fading as they delved deeper into the hallways and got further away from the main area. It felt like an eternity of sneaking around, fruitlessly hopping from room to room, before Johnny decided he’d had enough.</p>
<p>“<em>Jesus Christ, V. Wake me up in a hundred years, why don’t ya? </em>”</p>
<p>As if Johnny-fucking-Silverhand could play puppetry with NC peeps like a god on a power-trip, a loud voice suddenly echoed through the halls at that precise moment.</p>
<p>“Listen to me you ‘lil bitch—”</p>
<p>It was a woman’s voice. A low, rumbling, steroid-infused one. V followed River’s reflex to stick to the wall and listen in, as though pretending to blend in with the tapestry.</p>
<p>“This shit’s already dragged on way longer than what was discussed. ‘Ma guys are dozing off at their posts, and with reason, lemme tell ya!” </p>
<p>Well, that explained the painful lack of security. </p>
<p>A long pause ensued. Though they couldn’t confirm it with a visual, odds were the woman was speaking to someone on the holo. “You tell ‘im we’ve had fuckin’ enough.” Her tone was getting increasingly impatient. She was angry, that much was unarguable.</p>
<p>“Tell ‘im, I fuckin’ dare ya! We don’t work on empty promises. We work for scratch we know is comin’. And lemme tell ya, it ain’t nowhere near bein’ delivered.” The sound of aggravated pacing. It was easy to imagine this woman’s blood boiling in her veins. “Shut the fuck up, ya hear me? I don’t wanna hear another word out of ya botoxed mouth. Tell ‘im! We ain’t as stupid as y’all think. His elections are far from being won.”</p>
<p>As the dots finally connected in V’s head, she instantly looked up at River, a silent<em> holy fuck </em> displayed across her face. River’s forehead was tense and his lips in a tight line—surely, with a billion thoughts running through his mind. It was easy to assume how many theories of his own River must’ve concocted since the Horvath incident, and much like V, simply hadn’t had the opportunity to share them with anyone. </p>
<p>Ultimately, it wasn’t awfully surprising to hear that Holt was behind all this mess, but the implications were endless, especially for V’s very own clients, the Peralezes. Not to mention it was taking the matter onto a much larger scale. One that was unreachable for the NCPD organization as a whole, let alone for an inconsequential solo like V.</p>
<p>“One week, I tell ya.” The woman groaned like a hyena. “One week, and we outta here.”</p>
<p>There was an audible beep as the woman hung up, then a colorful array of insults mumbled under her breath. She was still out of visual range, but the sound of her opening a door and loudly stepping through the opposite hallway hinted at her location.</p>
<p>“Hey, Moose!” She screamed through what could only be assumed as walkie-talkie of sorts. “Plop ya ass down on the couch and get the popcorn ready—”</p>
<p>She continued yapping away, her voice gradually but surely retreating in the distance. </p>
<p>Neither V nor River dared utter a word for the next minute, lips zipped until they were sure the restored silence was nowhere near misleading. When it became clear enough that the surroundings were safe, V glanced at River, gesturing to the opposite hallway where the woman’s voice had originated from.</p>
<p>He nodded, signaling for her to lead the way. Replaying the woman’s voice and as she would a looping audio file, V was able to retrace the steps until they arrived face to face with another door. She scanned the inside for any security contraption and found nothing that stood out, then was able to walk right in, River at her heels.</p>
<p>The room, dimmed in teal lighting, buzzed with the noise of several computer systems. Lines of code flew across the screens as if permanently running a sequence, while server racks sat in the corner, collecting dust. The large monitors screwed to the wall would normally display live surveillance footage, but thanks to whoever had previously gone ham on the cams, there was now nothing but static.</p>
<p>“Well,” V began when the door closed once more, keeping her voice quiet. “Sort of looks like an office.”</p>
<p>River glanced around the room, cybernetic eye flashing. “Let’s look for any kind of evidence.”</p>
<p>Without wasting time on what was obviously past her area of expertise, V went for the only thing she knew how to navigate; the computer. Within a minute or so she hacked her way in, clicking through the pages until she found the local files.</p>
<p>She scrolled through most of them quickly enough, skimming past the shit that obviously didn’t matter—order confirmations, inventory report, customer satisfaction—and stopping at some that attracted her attention, such as client reservations.</p>
<p>But lo and behold, all reservations from the day of Rhyne’s death had been erased from the system. How convenient.</p>
<p>So while River worked his way through a pile of abandoned paperwork, V accessed archived camera recordings. Again, many of them were useless trash—with no more than a millisecond necessary to know this wasn’t what she was looking for.</p>
<p>But at last, one of the recordings stuck out. </p>
<p>CAMERA 1NW-3003</p>
<p>V hit play, hoping to god—whatever god that was out there, sittin’ on his ass—this wouldn’t be another recording of day-to-day corporats getting their dicks sucked, quite literally and not.</p>
<p>“Yep, stiff as a board. You ask me, he’s been dead at least an hour.”</p>
<p>The recorded voice filled up the room and instantly sparked V’s curiosity. It sounded vaguely familiar, but was too elusive for her to make the connection. V squinted at the image on the computer; the figure stood outside of a VIP room, unfortunately too far away from the neon lights to reveal his face.</p>
<p>Just as V heard the rustling of River’s coat, the figure on the monitor moved, stepping out of the darkness. “No, no Trauma card. Pretty sure he didn’t bring it on purpose.”</p>
<p>The figure turned around, ultimately a bad move on his end, and exposed himself as soon as he leaned forward to better face the camera.</p>
<p>And because there was no way V could’ve imagined such an ironic coincidence unwrapping itself before her eyes like a fuckin’ Christmas gift, she felt her face fall as the pieces finally came together.</p>
<p>“<em> Shit </em>—” The word escaped her, and she turned her head to see River standing a few feet behind, organic eye wide as he silently stared at the unfolding scene.</p>
<p>Han’s badge hung low around his neck, shining particularly bright through the camera lens as if to point out the incongruity of the situation. “Club like this, you don’t want TT bangin’ down the door when you’re bangin’ away and things start to heat up…”</p>
<p>Whoever was on the phone with him must’ve agreed, because Han carried on. “Heart, probably. Musta gotten a little too heavy and messy.” Pacing in front of the room like you would on a goddamn Tuesday night, there was no way this was Han’s first time sweeping the truth under the rug. “Ok...yeah, let’s do that. Coroner’ll find him at home. I’ll tell him how to write it up; died in his sleep, quiet as a baby.”</p>
<p>At that same moment, some nameless huscle came out of the VIP room, dragging a lifeless body by the collar of a fancy-ass suit. It was easy to identify it as Rhyne’s. Han gave him the okay, and the guy nodded before walking out of camera range, floppy leather shoes the last sight the world would ever see of Lucius Rhyne.</p>
<p>“Boys’re getting him outta here,” Han added for good measure. “‘Course nobody’ll see ‘em. No way.”</p>
<p>Who was that he was reporting to on the other line? Holt? One of Holt’s bitches? Higher-up in the NCPD?</p>
<p>The case was turning into more of a tangled mess by the second, but right now, V’s concern wasn’t so much for the fate of her loaded clients. But more for the deceived man standing beside her.</p>
<p>“Yep, yes.” Han mumbled on the recording, tone borderline bored. Like he just wanted to hang up and get on with his day. “Alright. I’ll buzz you later.”</p>
<p>As Han hung up and shoved the holo in his back pocket, the recording ended, freezing on his face as if taunting them.</p>
<p>“<em> Can’t say you’re really surprised, can ya, V? </em>”</p>
<p>Ignoring Johnny’s comment, V released the breath she’d unconsciously been holding and let her eyes carefully trail to River. He looked like he couldn’t believe the words he’d just heard, latching onto them as if hoping the truth would magically change. The tension on his forehead and fists hanging at his side were clear enough, but it was the look in his eye that didn’t lie; the perfect picture of betrayal. It made V’s chest tighten.</p>
<p>Unfortunately, she was still a merc out to finish a job. Had clients depending on her answers. She had to make sure.</p>
<p>“You didn’t know?” She asked but kept her voice softer than she normally would. “Not a thing?”</p>
<p>V’s instincts were telling her to trust River Ward, but one didn’t become a viable edgerunner by relying solely on their gut. Had to use their brain, too.</p>
<p>That seemed to pull River out of his senseless staring. He shifted his weight, shaking his metallic hand as if hoping to get rid of that nasty feeling clawing at him. “No. No, I—” He shook his head, averting V’s eyes. “<em>Fuck </em>.”</p>
<p>He looked just about ready to punch a hole through the wall when V decided to take the matters into her own hands. “Let’s get outta here, before someone walks in and triggers a fuckin’ bloodbath.”</p>
<p>River kept his mouth shut but didn’t argue, merely stood by as V jacked into the computer and downloaded the data. Opening the opposite door led them through an isolated stairway which they sped through—the red ambient lighting making it feel like escaping the gates of hell itself.</p>
<p>When they reached the exit, V peeked outside to get an idea of their new position. The set of lights on the entrance gate blinked at them and attracted her attention to the group of Animals that had gathered in front of the warehouse. Seemingly throwing theories around and about to go on the prowl.</p>
<p>“Got a handful of Animals waitin’ to catch us over there,” she told River when she pulled her head back in. “Prolly don’t have lotta options besides makin’ a run for it.”</p>
<p>River scratched his jaw, perhaps biting back a curse. “We can head straight for my truck. I parked closer, in the eventuality that this would happen.”</p>
<p>Right he was. Nodding at the improvised plan, V zeroed-in on the sight of River’s truck, sitting about a hundred meters away under the shadow of a burnt-out lamp post.</p>
<p>They sneaked in behind the shipping container, seemingly unnoticed before climbing on top—a task which had V grimacing in pain from her right shoulder—and crouched closer to the edge. They both jumped onto the other side, meeting grass instead of cement, while avoiding the barbed wire. The flock of gonks were so busy throwing blame amongst themselves, V allowed herself to believe it might be possible to delta out of there without being spotted at all.</p>
<p>But like all good dreams, her hopes were crushed.</p>
<p>“Fuckers, I see ‘em! They just jumped the fence!”</p>
<p>Without so much as a muttered ‘fuck’, both V and River took off in a sprint. Bullets hit the dirt at their feet, clouding the ground with dust, but thankfully missing flesh. Silver lining to fighting a pack of Animals; they never really knew how to shoot precisely. Too occupied with increasing their muscle mass, perhaps. Or reflexes fried from years of abusing substances.</p>
<p>During their race to the vehicle, V couldn’t help but notice she was faster, while River had longer strides. They ran neck to neck and got to the truck at the same time, V climbing in the passenger seat without hesitation while River got behind the steering wheel. </p>
<p>“Go!” she yelled, more out of habit than necessity. </p>
<p>By the time the bullets had started hitting the windshield, River’s foot was already crushing the pedal, the truck groaning and accelerating in response.</p>
<p>A single Animal car took off after them a few seconds later, much to V’s frustration. “Fuck, they’re onto us.”</p>
<p>River shot a look in the rearview mirror. “What about your bike?” </p>
<p>“Taken care of,” V answered, her eyes flashing as she sent new coordinates to her own vehicle. “You worry about driving, and fast.”</p>
<p>River complied, his eyes focused on the road ahead. “You might wanna take a look under the back seat.”</p>
<p>Under normal circumstances, V might’ve arched a curious brow. But with another bullet causing the side view mirror to shatter, she hauled ass and dug into the detective’s secret stash of iron. The sheer satisfaction she got when laying eyes on that power sniper rifle rivaled the one she felt when propping it on her shoulder. She hissed as its weight dug into her sensitive muscle, but the pain was quickly outbalanced by the thrill that coursed through her veins when she fired—the enemy vehicle exploding into a torrent of flames.</p>
<p>“Holy shit—” V murmured as she swooped back into her seat and closed the window, her heart thumping in her ears. She glanced back, the burning car no more than a spark retreating in the distance.</p>
<p>River’s lips stayed sealed, but judging by his expression, he seemed to be in as much of an adrenaline rush as she was.</p>
<p>“Good call,” she told him, mainly to break the silence. “Keeping a sniper in the truck.”</p>
<p>His eyes didn’t meet hers, but he did appear to relax a little. “Second time it’s come in handy.”</p>
<p>V couldn’t help it, the question was past her lips within the next second. “And the first time?”</p>
<p>River froze, then tilted his head toward her—barely, just enough to look at her sideways. He seemed to hesitate before he answered. “Maybe a story for another time.”</p>
<p>Ah, right. The job. His case. Holt’s involvement. Detective Han’s cover-up. The Peralezes. A whole clusterfuck of a situation they now held in the palms of their sweaty hands. And the only thing V could think about was crashing down in her bed and falling into a most certain coma.</p>
<p>“Take that exit, right here,” V pointed to the road sign up ahead. “My bike’s coordinates are at a truckstop about a mile away. We can stop there...and talk.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Early Birds</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
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  <strong>◾7: EARLY BIRDS◾</strong>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>As silly as it was to admit, relief always sprouted in V’s chest whenever she was reunited with her bike. Being in her line of work automatically meant higher risks of having it stolen, damaged or even blown up to pieces—ironically enough. Of course, metal was metal. Always replaceable. But to pretend it didn’t hold sentimental value was a waste of time.</p><p>Plus, not like Johnny was gonna make fun of her for it—what with every piece of scrapped iron <em> he </em> once held close to <em> his </em>heart. Guitar. Handgun. Wheels. You name it. Maybe getting glimpses of her alter ego’s memories had its benefits, after all.</p><p>So it goes without saying that when V spotted the scarlet enamel of her Kusanagi in the parking lot of the ghosted gas station, she welcomed the feeling with open-arms.</p><p>As if he could somehow read her thoughts, River parked the truck next to her ride, then turned off the engine without a word. The heavy silence seemed to claim the compartment, hanging over their heads like an executioner. The severity of the situation was dawning on them both, and there were no more excuses to run away from it.</p><p>V shifted in her seat, leather rubbing leather and making her feel ten times more awkward than it should have. She slowly turned to River, studying the force at which he gripped the steering wheel and the conflict dancing in the maroon sea of his organic eye. The way his nose wrinkled at the bridge, and the resignation in his knitted brows.</p><p>It wasn’t the pent up anger she’d expected. It was the picture of a broken man.</p><p>“So…” V softly broke the silence, trying to reach out in the only way she knew how. “What are you gonna do—with everything we learned?”</p><p>River’s knuckles turned white before his hold slackened, ‘ganic hand sliding off the wheel and falling onto his thigh. “I need to talk to Han, before anythin’ else.”</p><p>Nodding in understanding, V dug her teeth into her bottom lip as she glanced at the time—1:03 a.m. “You gonna call ‘im now?”</p><p>River gazed outside his window; the sky so dark, it looked like it had been dipped in a vial of ink. He sighed as he scratched his jaw. “Nah, it’s too late. He’s got his daughter at home.” He paused, but missed the way V drank in his every word. “I’ll call ‘im in the morning, ask him to meet me.”</p><p>She thought back to what he had said earlier today. To him going out of his way to warn Rhyne. To the way he couldn’t let go of this case, despite his partner’s protests. To his value of human life, and his sense of justice, cleaner than a suit’s wardrobe.</p><p>One thing was sure, you didn’t encounter people like River Ward every day in the streets of NC.</p><p>“Actually, I—” River began, pulling V’s attention back to him. “I’m gonna need a witness’ testimony.” He turned his head to finally look at her. “Ideally, even when I confront Han.” He squinted, like the words got tangled on his tongue and pained him to say. “I don’t know how he’s gonna react.”</p><p>“Of course,” V answered. “I’ll be there.”</p><p>River nodded, communicating his thanks through a half-smile. He waited a beat, then: “And you? You gonna report back to the Peralezes?”</p><p>V inhaled, flexing her fingers and watching the color of her nails reflect in the light pouring through the windshield. “Yep. Guess so, though I don’t know what I’ll tell ‘em just yet.” She shrugged, meeting River’s gaze. “Not like we have any evidence that incriminates Holt.”</p><p>“Hm, suppose you’re right. Although there isn’t much doubt, if any, in my mind.” A thin sheet of darkness covered his organic eye. “Holt murdered Rhyne. Wanted his seat. Oldest, tritest motive in the book.”</p><p>Eyes dropping to her boots, V hummed. “Yeah.” She scoffed, though only bitterness laced her voice. For a second, it was like the sound came from Johnny Silverhand’s very own mouth. “Too bad the truth is sometimes too inconvenient for people to believe it.”</p><p>River echoed the noise, his head dropping an inch lower. Perhaps disappointed with politicians, or with the very organization he was a part of. Perhaps with society as a whole. “Sadly, you’re not wrong.”</p><p>Silence returned, inhabiting the inside of the truck for a minute or so, although not so uncomfortable this time around. V found herself staring outside the window, her lower back softly digging into the cushioned seat in a way that had the day’s fatigue catch up to her all at once. Before she could push the urge down, a yawn was claiming her, stretching her jaw in a very ungraceful manner.</p><p>She caught River looking at her and covered her mouth, granted a little too late, as she blinked the tears away. “Yikes. Sorry, didn’t mean to say you bore me.”</p><p>To her surprise, and perhaps delight, he laughed a little. “Don’t fret. We’ve been running all over the city since noon. Be wise to get some shut-eye before morning bells ring.”</p><p>“Won’t fight you on that one,” V said with a small chuckle.</p><p>River hesitated. “Want me to drive you home? Y’know,” he shrugged as if to emphasize his point. “Injured shoulder and all.”</p><p>On cue, the muscle twitched, and V rolled her shoulder a few times to test the waters. “Ah, I’ll be fine. Thanks.” She offered the hint of a smile. “Driving at night helps me clear my head.”</p><p>“Alright,” River nodded. He didn’t look too sure about that shoulder claim, but not like he didn’t have a load of bigger worries on his mind. “We’d meet at Chubby Buffalo’s at 5:30 a.m., if that’s okay.”</p><p>“Sounds good.” V opened the car door, flinging her legs over the edge and landing on her feet. For the first time in a long time, she didn’t long for the feeling of her ride’s seat beneath her ass. River’s truck had proved to be particularly...comfortable. </p><p>With her hand on the door handle, V paused. “River…” Her lips hung partly open, chasing after the right words. Were there any right words in such a situation? “Try to catch some sleep, if ya can.”</p><p>He seemed to make a genuine effort to soften the look he gave her, then nodded. “You too, V. I’ll see you tomorrow.”</p><p>For some reason, not looking back at the sight of River’s retreating truck was harder than it should’ve been.</p><p>V tried not to let her thoughts derail as she straddled her bike and rode home. Tried to focus on what she was gonna tell her clients. On the confrontation with Han, merely a few hours away. Even tried to appreciate the feeling of the cool wind on her skin. Almost hoped Johnny would pop a comment at some point, but no. Nothing seemed to do the trick. </p><p>Perhaps she was just too tired to think straight.</p><p>When she got home and parked her bike in its usual spot in the underground garage, none of the faces of the people she walked by even registered. V rode up the elevator, feeling the fatigue overtake her body one limb at a time. Her shoulder had started throbbing. Even the goddamn nerve in her neck from a night under the stars cried for attention. She unlocked the door to her place and, without bothering to take off her clothes, collapsed into bed.</p><p>
  
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</p><p>The early morning sky was dark grey and the air humid when 5:30 a.m. came around in the parking lot of Chubby Buffalo’s. With the green lettuce-shaped neons buzzing above her head, V slowly paced in a circle, as if it would somehow kill time. She couldn’t resist kicking a chunk of asphalt with her boot, sending it flying and having it ricochet on the tire of River’s truck. He’d been sitting in there for at least ten minutes, on the holo with a coworker to discuss what River had broadly labeled as ‘routine paperwork’. Though maybe that was better than the alternative, which pretty much consisted of anxiously twiddling his thumbs while waiting for Han to show up.</p><p>It’d been obvious as soon as she’d laid eyes on him. River hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep last night. Physically, it was near impossible to tell—no dark circles, no bloodshot eye, no yawns. Probably used to sleeping no more than three hours a day, just like she was. No, instead, V noticed it in the way he held himself. The dragging inhales, the wrinkled forehead, the hand twitches…</p><p>None of which had been present when she’d met with him yesterday.</p><p>As she shot a side-glance at River, already working himself to the bone before the sun was even up, she was suddenly reminded of Jackie’s words.</p><p>“<em>The City of Dreams, chica. Tons and tons of people, and none of ‘em are the same. Isn’t that fuckin’ beautiful? </em>”</p><p>For the first time in a long time, V found herself wishing she could share her choom’s natural people skills. Would certainly help her figure out how to make this situation a little less shitty. She swallowed the intrusive tightness in her throat, but was surprised to feel a surge of good memories balance out the pain.</p><p>Knowing Jackie, V was ready to bet he wouldn’t have had trouble seeing past River’s label. Might’ve gotten along with him, too. Pop open a beer, talk iron, crack a joke or two—</p><p>“<em>Hey, V.” </em> Johnny called out as his shape manifested on her Kusanagi. He took a drag of his digital cig, clearly bored and in need of attention. Uh oh, bad sign. <em> “Ya gonna cry me a River? </em>”</p><p>Had she been alone, she would’ve flipped him off without hesitation. Unfortunately, there were eyes around. Specifically, one pair of eyes she’d gladly avoid witnessing just how fucked up she truly was.</p><p>“<em>You’re an ass, </em>” she snapped back instead, sticking within the walls of her crazy mind.</p><p>Johnny chuckled, obviously satisfied with her reply despite its evident lack of originality. Sometimes, she swore Johnny was like a child in a man’s body. Always out to get a reaction, even if that meant playing dirty.</p><p>“<em>Come on,</em>” he mewled then, as if to soften the blow of his crude call. “<em>Why’re ya beatin’ yourself up over this Han thing? So the guy’s a corrupted son of a bitch. Big fuckin’ deal</em>—<em>he’s a badge. Nothin’ we didn’t already know.</em>” </p><p>Again, V’s eyes seemed pulled back to River, almost like a magnet. “<em>Don’t ya think it’s time you let go of petty preconceptions? </em>”</p><p>Johnny followed her eyes, but from behind his shades, she didn’t notice it. He scoffed. “<em>I</em> <em>might, if one of ‘em would ever prove me wrong. </em>”</p><p>V didn’t answer that. Didn’t need to—after all, Johnny had straight access to each and every one of her goddamn thoughts. He probably knew what she was thinking way before she even did herself.</p><p>The sound of the driver’s door closing shut thankfully gave her the exit she needed to step out of her inner world. V watched as River walked back toward her, the look he offered somewhat apologetic.</p><p>“Sorry ‘bout that.” His deep exhale carried a sense of burden. “Boss asked me to come in earlier. Had to ask a colleague to cover for me.”</p><p>V hummed in response, tilting her weight back on her heels out of habit. “Ah, so more to it than ‘routine paperwork’, then?” </p><p>He blinked, then rubbed the back of his head. Bashful, or a sign of resurfacing anxiety? “Heh, guess so.”</p><p>Then River went back to staring at the driveway, almost as if it would otherwise disappear without notice. V opened her mouth, about to ask if she could treat him to an ultimately bland cup of coffee, when River’s body suddenly stiffened before her.</p><p>Han’s car was pulling in. Waiting time was over.</p><p>Spotting them was as easy as picking out Wraiths in a crowd of Aldecaldos—with the parking lot being completely deserted aside from her and River’s rides, they stood out like a sore thumb. Han parked and swooped out of the vehicle, already lighting a cigarette.</p><p>He walked around his car, glancing at them over those shades you found in every Japantown streetwear store. His eyes were grey, alarmingly so, almost evocative of a dead fish. Han leaned on the hood to face them, waving his cig-holding hand at V as if to dismiss her very presence.</p><p>“Still hangin’ around with this punk?”</p><p>Great timing for insults, choom.</p><p>“Shut it Harold.” River’s voice hit ten notes lower, shutting down any deflecting before it could get further. “I know what you did.”</p><p>River stood with his arms-crossed and his brows furrowed—clearly not up for any bullshit. To be frank, V didn’t have the patience to deal with Han trying to skate his way out of trouble, either.</p><p>Meanwhile, Han didn’t even flinch at the accusation. Took another drag of his cig, as if it was nothing but biz as usual. “Not about to ask why you covered it up.” River carried on regardless. “Not even why you jumped into this mess to begin with. Just wanna know—who gave you the order?”</p><p>V’s gaze switched from Han to River, and for a second, she found herself studying his words. Based on the way he reacted last night, she’d expected him to demand <em> why </em>. A knife in the back hit where it hurt, and, more often than not, people asked for a reason. Hoping it would somehow justify the means.</p><p>But it seemed Detective Ward had switched his focus to something else. Maybe already knew no amount of justification would be worthy of forgiveness. Had already accepted the fact that his partner was a dirtbag, and there was no walking around it. Instead, decided to get to the bottom of this mess. To leave his own demons behind and pursue justice.</p><p>“What’s it matter River? Why do you even care?” Han replied without missing a beat, tobacco smoke clouding his breath. “Your conscience is clear, you can sleep tight at night.” He shook his head in a flurry, reminding V of the bobblehead in her old Galena Rattler. “You know why? Cause I took all the responsibility.” He emphasized the <em> I </em> with an accusatory finger.</p><p>Surely, out to undermine River’s claim.</p><p>“You got no idea how this city works.” Han continued, like he had something to get off his chest. Or was one of those gonks whose motto was ‘the more, the better’. Either way, it didn’t work in his favor. “Think your goddamn inspirational, idealist bullshit actually means something? It doesn’t, never did.”</p><p>Well, whatever this was had turned into a constructed, personal vendetta.</p><p>“<em>What a fucking twat, </em> ” Johnny’s voice commented from the sidelines. “<em>That’s how cities plummet to shit; with guys like these workin’ the beehive. </em>”</p><p>With her disdain for Han exponentially growing, V narrowed her eyes, biting her tongue.</p><p>A reaction Han evidently didn’t miss, because he arched a fed-up brow her way. “‘Ey, don’t look at me that way, merc. As if your own track record is spic-an-span.” He scoffed, then shook his head. “Y’know I’m right.”</p><p>“Not from here,” V retorted in a dry voice. Hadn’t exactly intended on aiming this conversation at herself, but hell, the words were already out. “Came from nowhere.”</p><p>Han’s lips visibly thinned, but it wasn’t him V suddenly became acutely aware of. It was River. His head had turned her way, regarding her with the noticeable glint of surprise in his eye. </p><p>V blinked, as though the weight of his stare could tickle her lashes, and forced herself to focus on Han.</p><p>“Nomad, huh?” Han didn’t sound all that impressed. If anything, all the more nauseated. “Well, the NCPD’s my clan. My family. You don’t just break from family, you don’t turn your back on your people.”</p><p>He inclined his head to take another puff, but paused when V barked an argument of her own. “Bull-fucking-shit, Han. The fraternity of cops resembles a clan about as much as cats and dogs.”</p><p>Han lowered his cig and clicked his tongue. “Loyalty. A blood bond. Serving an ideal greater than the individual.” This dude was out to get the last word in, that much was clearer than MaxTac in broad daylight. “Need I go on?”</p><p>This time, V allowed a jeer to slip right past her lips. Her patience was at its limit, and Han’s stubbornness was the least of her goddamn problems. She didn’t hold back; let the venom coat her words. </p><p>“Not like loyalty to your partner is anything you should concern yourself with, right?”</p><p>“V,” River intercepted, as though afraid she’d take it too far. The frown on his face told her to drop it. “Appreciate the help, but I’ll take care of it.”</p><p>Han, perhaps feeling back in control, flicked his cigarette bud. “Take care of it, huh?” He echoed. “And how you gonna do that, am I under arrest?”</p><p>Han’s mocking tone was out to taunt them, but River didn’t bite. “Got a scroll, got a motive, got your confession.” He paused. “Even got a witness to testify. So yeah, you could be.” His eye implant blinked, as though proving he had enough material under his sleeve.</p><p>“But it wouldn’t make much sense,” River carried on before Han could step in. “You don’t even got’a say who ordered you to go and clean up, I know anyway.” He seemed to sharpen his gaze as he squared his shoulders. “So since even our brass’ fingers are all over this, I gotta take it to Internal.”</p><p>Sounded like he had thought about this long and hard after escaping the Red Queen’s Race. Not that V could blame him. Lord knew she had her fair share of racing thoughts.</p><p>“<em>Lord, or Johnny? </em> ” Said parasite suddenly appeared on her left, back flat down on the graffiti-covered ledge. One little push and he’d fall right off. Or so she wished. “ <em> ‘Member, I’m the only one who’s forced to listen to those scandalous thoughts of yours. Like gettin’ ripped off to watch a low-budget film. </em>”</p><p>Somehow V managed to suppress the eyeroll, and successfully centered her attention on Han instead.</p><p>“They won’t do a thing, either. Not to me,” he used to counter River’s take, smearing his smugness across the pavement. He stepped on his discarded cancer stick, and disguised his threat as a warning. “They’ll put you in their sights, though...”</p><p>Then Han pushed himself off the car, on his way to reclaim the driver’s seat and delta out. Clearly, he’d had enough of this confrontation—played it down and laughed it off. “Just go home, Ward. Get some sleep, might do you some good.” He smacked a hand on the roof of his car, the sound as hollow as his goddamn words. “Find all of this easier to take tomorrow. I mean, that’s my plan.”</p><p>And with that, he slammed his door and drove off, the exhaust smoke rising to their faces as though Han’s last attempt at clouding their judgements. But if River wasn’t the type to whip out the measuring tape and compare dick size, he certainly wasn’t the type to be swayed by such a weak display of power.</p><p>When Han’s wheels disappeared down the street, River dropped his hands to his sides. Though the look on his face wasn’t anger—it was disappointment.</p><p>“Fuck,” he cursed like he’d just lost his last resort, rubbing his jaw and the five o’clock shadow that had been forgotten.</p><p>Didn’t even seem to register V’s presence as he walked past her to reach the ledge, leaning on his forearms at the exact spot Johnny had been a minute ago. River stared down into the flavorless horizon—the morning fog thick and ostensibly impossible to pierce through. Quite fitting for the occasion.</p><p>“Urgh,” he grunted, maybe thinking V was too far to hear it.</p><p>With a tug in her chest, she trailed his steps to the ledge, using a dent in the concrete to recline on. As opposed to River, V hoped she could get away with ignoring the troubles that haunted her a little while longer.</p><p>River raised his head an inch or two, the muscles in the back of his neck visibly tensed. “I was hoping he’d—” The words got lost on his tongue, and he shook his head in frustration.</p><p>“Admit to his mistake?” </p><p>He seemed to consider the wording. “Yeah, or...that there’d somehow be an explanation.” He scoffed, the sound devoid of any mirth. “Guess we don’t live in a fairy tale.”</p><p>V let her eyes fall to her feet, couldn’t help but think things would be very different if they did in fact live in a fairy tale. NC probably wouldn’t exist at all. </p><p>“So, what now?”</p><p>River inhaled, straightening his neck as he stared off into the fog. “Won’t let this go. Can’t.” His chromed hand scraped the cracked concrete as he closed it in a fist. “Holt used the NCPD to cover his tracks. Han was nothin’ more than a pawn doin’ the dirty work.” He shook his head as he finally released his pent up breath, then rose from the ledge. “Takin’ it to Internal Affairs, doesn’t matter what Han says.”</p><p>V nodded. “I think it’s the right thing to do, in spite of everything that could go south.”</p><p>“Think so too.” River dipped his chin, causing his earring to hang at a slightly different angle. An angle that, for some reason, caught V’s undivided attention. “I should head to the station—deal with this mess. The process’ll prolly take months, but I might need to call you in at one point or another, for that testimony.” His brown eye, which had seemed so dark mere moments ago, now burnt brighter than firewood in the badlands. “That okay?”</p><p>A few months from now? Sure, if she was still around to even answer the phone.</p><p>“Of course,” she said as she suffocated the dread under a smile.</p><p>River tried to smile back, although it fell short. “Thanks, V. Not just for that, but for—well, everything.”</p><p>“Eh,” she lightly rocked her weight from one leg to the other. “It was to our mutual benefit, wasn’t it?” Her smile took on authenticity. “Plus, we make a pretty decent team.”</p><p>Surprise twirled in River’s eye, the unruly frown finally becoming lighter. “Yeah, but I’ll admit, you did most of the work.”</p><p>“And you saved my life, so I suppose we’re even.”</p><p>As if it was the most natural thing in the world, V held River’s eyes. Brown swam into crimson, and time suddenly stood still. There was no race against time. No grim reaper, no Takemura, no Peralezes, no Han, no Evelyn, no Hellman, no Arasaka, no Dexter DeShawn.</p><p>But of course it didn’t last.</p><p>“<em>Is this jerk-fest over with so we can get on with our day? </em>”</p><p>Well, not like he was wrong. V tore her eyes away, unconsciously tucking a wild strand of hair behind her ear. “Well, I’ll see you around, River. And I—” she paused. “I’m sorry about Han.”</p><p>River tucked his hands in his pockets, offering a soft nod. “Thanks, V. I’ll see you around.”</p><p>When she turned around, got on her bike and rode out of the parking lot without looking back, V didn’t try to identify that sinking feeling in her stomach, and instead, decided to phone Elizabeth Peralez. No time to waste.</p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Breathe underwater</h2></a>
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  <strong>◾8: BREATHE UNDERWATER◾</strong>
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<p>The elevator to the Peralezes’ penthouse was slow, too slow for V’s taste. A soft tune played through the concealed speakers; pretentious piano notes flowing around her as if trying to dictate her mood or win her favor. It only made it worse—had her eyes digging holes into the ceiling and her foot tapping impatiently, much like a junkie having an episode.</p>
<p>Johnny manifested by the chrome-covered doors, leaning back in his typical outlaw rockerboy persona. “What’s got your damn panties in a twist, V?”</p>
<p>She flicked her stare to him, willing her foot to chill. “Nothin’.”</p>
<p>He scoffed, clearly didn’t believe it. It was obviously useless to lie to him, but fuck her if she didn’t forget that fact every now and then.</p>
<p>Johnny didn’t push it. Had something else on his mind. “Fine. Just gonna tell you one thing.”</p>
<p>“What’s that?”</p>
<p>His demeanor hardened a little. She could tell by the shift in his tone. By the way his dark eyebrows scrunched down, momentarily resembling a furry caterpillar.</p>
<p>“Don’t tell ‘em nothin’. Don’t get involved.” He crossed his arms. “This muck is deeper than ya think. Suck you in if you’re not careful.”</p>
<p>V kept her eyes on Johnny as her lips thinned. Of course this whole case had turned into something much bigger than anticipated. Had proved Johnny wrong with his ‘seen crazy coincidences’ bullshit. The players involved could have her disappear in the snap of a finger—corporats and NCPD alike—and make it so no one would ever hear her goddamn name again.</p>
<p>But to deny information to the people that hired her? The ones who might be straight in Holt’s line of fire? Felt a little immoral, even for her.</p>
<p>“If I don’t give them somethin’, they’re not gonna pay me,” V argued. Technically, that was true. Her cred chip was still drier than a nun’s cunt, and she wasn’t about to let a whole day worth of job flow away with the current.</p>
<p>“We’ll manage without that.”</p>
<p>V thought back to that Synthsnack, forgotten for who knows how long in her pocket. To that sad little sandwich she found buried in sand in the badlands. “There’s no sense in which you gotta eat.”</p>
<p>“Fine.” Johnny was done with her, that much was clear. “Do whatever the fuck you want. Not like ya listen anyway.”</p>
<p>Leaving a practically-pouting Johnny behind when the elevator doors opened, V came face to face with Elizabeth Peralez.</p>
<p>“Hello, V.” Elizabeth opted for a polite nod. “Please, come in, make yourself at home. Jefferson will join us shortly.”</p>
<p>Elizabeth’s appearance was as pristine as it had been yesterday. Flawless complexion, rosy cheeks, lipstick that wouldn’t smudge, unwrinkled dress and untouchable hairline. Seemed 6 a.m. agreed with her.</p>
<p>V returned the nod before following Elizabeth through wide, rich-brown wooden doors that lead to a dimly lit hallway. Grandiose might not have been the right word to describe it—but it sure felt like it might belong in a museum more than than it did in a house. </p>
<p>Inside, a grand piano was being played by a ghost—the programmed partition hitting the keys without the need for a musician. The rooms were spacious, connected and cold. The ceiling high enough to fit both Johnny Silverhand’s ego and Saburo Arasaka’s pride. Security cameras crowded the corners of every other wall. Smart, especially with the intel V would or would not be withholding from the Peralezes.</p>
<p>Elizabeth led the way to the living room—actually, most probably <em> one of </em>the living rooms. Stairways went both upstairs and downstairs, so it was easy to imagine this floor was but a slim slice of the entire pizza.</p>
<p>“Please, have a seat.”</p>
<p>V followed through, studying the leather sectional couch before taking a seat in the middle. She tried to make herself comfortable, tried to stretch out a leg and prop an arm against the headrest to trick herself into believing she wasn’t the odd one out. Proved futile, because she couldn’t help it—luxurious crap made her feel...uneasy.</p>
<p>Perfectly on time, Jefferson walked in through the terrace doors just as Elizabeth was pouring herself a drink. Coffee? Water? Shot of gin first thing in the morning?</p>
<p>“Good to see you, V!” Jefferson opened his arms in welcoming fashion—slightly overdoing it. He settled on the opposite couch to face her, morphing his expression into one more appropriate for biz with a merc. Reminded her of a chameleon, and a damn good one at that. At least he didn’t seem disingenuous. Elizabeth sat on the padded crest rail by Jefferson’s head. A delicate hand to his shoulder and they’d make for a goddamn political painting. Had already slipped into the shoes of an accomplished mayoress, that one.</p>
<p>“I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon, but Elizabeth tells me you have answers for us.” Jefferson smiled at his wife as she handed him the mystery drink in question. Huh, maybe not hard liquor, then. “I’m all ears.”</p>
<p>V found herself tongue-tied. Johnny’s words resurfaced, hopping in the ring for a face-off against her personal code of ethics. In the end, they got slammed into each other and joined forces. Get the best of both worlds, right?</p>
<p>“Case is complicated, more so than I had anticipated,” V answered, her eyes narrowing unintentionally. “A lot of questions remain unanswered, and I can’t draw any tangible conclusions yet.”</p>
<p>Jefferson arched a brow. Didn’t seem disappointed, but not exactly satisfied, either. “But you must have an opinion.” He tilted his drink toward her, encouraging an answer.</p>
<p>“That, I do.” V leaned forward, her elbows on her knees. Seemed to shift the atmosphere. “If you want my advice, don’t let your guard down.”</p>
<p>Jefferson’s lip twitched. “We were right, then?”</p>
<p>“Case is complicated…” Elizabeth mused as she echoed the words. “But dying at home of a cardiac-malfunction isn't complicated. Yes, we were right.” She dipped her chin to gaze at her husband. “We’ll have to be careful, Jeff. Very careful.”</p>
<p>V stifled a smirk. Woman had brains. Much more so than those typical corpo wives who spoke about as much as a house ornament did.</p>
<p>Jefferson nodded slowly, eyes going from his wife, to the floor, before landing on V. “Well, it’s good to know our suspicions were correct. We thank you for your help, V. Really.”</p>
<p>He rose from the couch, prompting V to do the same. The look in his brown eyes unfit of a detached politician—instead grateful, authentic. V realized she might be hoping for the man’s electoral win. Maybe if he got elected, Night City would finally be in untarnished, capable hands.</p>
<p>“Here’s your fee.”</p>
<p>The jaw-dropping amount of 12k came in as soon as his eye implants turned blue. V kept her reaction strictly to herself as she smiled at the Peralezes. </p>
<p>“Thank you. You two watch out for each other.”</p>
<p>Once she was back in the elevator, V pressed the button to the lobby, expecting her mood to be in much better shape than it was coming up. Thought the fact that this case was wrapped up and her cred chip was back on its feet would be enough to kill that little monster lurking in her gut. Told herself she had forgotten all about the Han bullshit. About River Ward.</p>
<p>But the inexplicable malaise wasn’t gone, weighed on her chest for who knows why. Maybe another side-effect of the biochip slowly taking over her body...</p>
<p>“So,” she knocked on Johnny’s door to distract herself. “Was I careful enough for ya?”</p>
<p>He took his sweet time answering—maybe he wasn’t done pouting yet. “Hm.”</p>
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<p>The taste of a job well done varied, depending on the day. Today, it tasted like the pancakes at Tom’s Diner—dry but coated in enough syrup to overwhelm V’s taste buds. Wasn’t her favorite place to eat, but after being faced with an angry stomach, growling and snarling at her for negligence, V just wanted to shove food down her throat and get it to shut up.</p>
<p>She pushed the empty plate away from her, fork left to drown in the gooey leftovers while she downed the glass of water. With the necessities out of the way, V found herself falling captive to her own thoughts. She groaned as she paid for her meal and walked out the door—actions were always so much easier than thoughts. Even more so ever since the privilege of having her own thinking space had been stripped away from her. </p>
<p>A check of her text messages proved disappointing. A gig offer from Regina, a quick update from Panam, a drunk text from Dino. Nothing from Takemura, who right now, was her only lead.</p>
<p>Nothing from River. She didn’t know what the fuck she even expected. Why would he text her two hours after parting ways? They’d worked a job together. Biz was done. Time to move on.</p>
<p>Despite being fully aware of that fact, V found herself wondering if he was okay. Where his mind was at. If he’d gone into work, reported the case to Internal as he said he would. And what about Han? Would River keep working alongside that sleazeball of a man?</p>
<p>Before Johnny could chastise her for wasting brain space on a nameless badge, V’s vision turned to shit. The words RELIC MALFUNCTION stamped before her eyes, distorting in and out of focus at the same time as her surroundings did. A sudden cough gripped her by the throat, tightening and grazing at her lungs like barbed wire. V tripped forward, coughing into her hand and struggling to walk away from the populated sidewalk.</p>
<p>“Fuck—”</p>
<p>Her hands trembled at her sides and her legs felt weak, like two fucking sticks of Jell-O. Without doubt sad to look at, real fuckin’ sad. V let herself fall forward until her forearm met a brick wall. She pressed her warm forehead to the cooler skin of her arm, giving herself time to catch her breath.</p>
<p>She expected Johnny to be the next voice she heard, but instead a call came through. Didn’t open her eyes to check who it was. Instead, cleared her throat and inhaled before answering in a raspy voice—sounding like she had a handful of gravel in her goddamn trachea. </p>
<p>“Yeah?”</p>
<p>“Hey, V.”</p>
<p>She cracked her eyes open when she recognized the voice, and saw Judy looking back at her through her holo cam. Crease between her brows pronounced, lips pinched together, black eye-liner hiding sleep-deprivation.</p>
<p>“What’s wrong, Judy?” V asked after swallowing the gravel. “Everythin’ okay?”</p>
<p>Judy blinked like her eyelids were static, then shrugged. “Dunno yet. Remember you asked me to dive into Evie’s behavioral chip?” V nodded, though Judy couldn’t see it. “Well, managed to reconstruct two BDs—only one of ‘em’s understandable, though.”</p>
<p>“Oh, shit.” The news had cleared up the remaining black spots of V’s vision. “And what’d you find?”</p>
<p>“I—” By now, V knew Judy well enough to recognize when she was angry. “I think it’s best if you go in yourself, don’t wanna taint your perspective.”</p>
<p>“‘Kay.” A pause. “How’s Evelyn doin’?”</p>
<p>Judy, who had been purposefully squeaking the chair she was sitting on up until now, froze. She scratched the skin under her ‘13’ tattoo. “Evelyn’s…” she held her breath, then released it all at once. “You’ll see when you get here.”</p>
<p>That couldn’t amount to anything good. “Alright, on my way.”</p>
<p>The ride to Judy’s apartment was fast, speeding through vehicles at 150 MPH the only cure V could find to deal with those nasty thoughts of hers. Not like she could drop everything and go storm a Scav’s den to take the edge off. The relic malfunction had left her queasy, and who knew what she was bound to find in Evelyn’s salvaged virtus?</p>
<p>V eventually got to Judy’s door, knocked once before she was led in. Judy looked in even worse shape in person, like a walking shell of who she used to be.</p>
<p>“C’mon on in.”</p>
<p>The door to the first bedroom was closed. V’s eyes latched onto the <em> Hidden under the Sea </em>poster, its edges curling in as if the glue was slowly drying up. One day it wouldn’t be enough to keep the poster up—would let it fall to the ground like it didn’t owe it a thing. V couldn’t help but internally laugh at the painful irony. Or maybe that was Johnny.</p>
<p>V quietly followed Judy to her work space. Place was poorly lit, like the rest of the apartment. Monitors hung around the desk by the handful, as though standing tall and strong, creating Judy’s own bubble of comfort. V could certainly relate; she felt the same way about the weapon stash in her own apartment. A few bottles of hard liquor littered the edge of the desk, bottles which a quick scan of V’s kiroshis had confirmed as empty.</p>
<p>Again, had no fucking clue what to say. Or if it even was her place to say anything at all, so she kept her mouth shut. Judy slumped into her desk chair, same squeaky one from the phone call, and started typing at her keyboard. “Have a seat.”</p>
<p>V spotted the little stool on wheels and plopped her ass down. “Alright, ‘whatcha got for me?”</p>
<p>“Data’s in pretty rough shape—took me longer than usual to put it back together.” Judy’s eyes didn’t leave the pixelated lines of code. “It’s barely editable, and the quality’s lousy.”</p>
<p>V kept silent as she took out her wreath, same one she’d gotten from Judy what seemed like a fucking lifetime ago, and placed it on her head. At that moment, Judy’s fingers slowed down on the keys, hovering in the air while her gaze fell somewhere unreachable.</p>
<p>“I really, really didn’t want to poke around in her head.” Maybe it was an illusion from the monitor’s lighting, but Judy’s eyes seemed glassy under her dark eyelashes. “Just know, I did it for you.”</p>
<p>Finally allowed to meet Judy’s eyes, V gently bit at her tongue as she nodded. “Thank you, Judy. Truly. I know none of this was easy, but I really appreciate everything you’re doin’ for me.”</p>
<p>With a shaky breath and one last nod to establish common grounds, Judy tore her gaze away from V’s. Enough splashing into emotional puddles—neither of them were wearing their rain boots, after all. </p>
<p>“Alright, rollin’ in.”</p>
<p>First BD folded in with a harsh light. Felt even shittier than usual to enter, whether it was due to the sudden lighting contrast or the sickening feeling shadowing her. The scene opened up to the inside of some sort of chapel—Evelyn sat on a pew while another, taller woman sat a row over. Close enough to talk without a hitch.</p>
<p>The woman in question had her face blurred, and according to Judy, it was impossible to crack the encryption. Woman either was one of a hell netrunner, or had one pulling the strings behind the scene. Their conversation was short but didn’t cut any corners: Evelyn was being hired to film a virtu of Yorinobu Arasaka’s room. Knew more than she should have—wasn’t supposed to know about any biochip. The mystery woman didn’t seem pleased by that revelation, told her to stick to lookin’ pretty, come back and get her eddies.</p>
<p>Thankfully, there was enough evidence on that scroll to give V an idea of where she should direct her attention next. Flyers from Pacifica, holograms of veve symbols displayed at the altar, and the woman’s Haitian Creole accent. Didn’t leave much room for doubt—the Voodoo Boys were the ones who’d hired Evelyn. Probably hadn’t expected a harmless little doll thing to cross them.</p>
<p>“So, what do you think?” Judy’s voice reached her ears while the swirl of blue light was still assaulting her vision. V took a moment to shake off the nausea before she opened her eyes, staring back at Judy’s defeated expression. </p>
<p>“Well,” V inhaled, taking the wreath off as if it would shoo the dizziness away. “Now we know what happened at Clouds. Voodoo Boys tried to flatline Evelyn, launched a nuke at ‘er chip.” </p>
<p>Judy bit her bottom lip, rubbing her chin. “What, as punishment? For getting played by her?”</p>
<p>“They couldn’t let it go—she knew more than she was supposed to.”</p>
<p>“Urgh,” Judy dropped her arms on her legs with an audible slap, throwing her head back. “So that’s who she was running from. Fuck.” Black fingernails got lost in the dark fabric of her overalls. </p>
<p>“Seems like she didn’t tell us the whole truth.”</p>
<p>Judy scoffed, the sound as bitter as the liquor that had once sat in those bottles. “You’re telling me… I’d be mad at her right now, if I could.” Her voice trailed off, aching.</p>
<p>Before V could inquire about Evelyn, Judy rubbed her nose and turned to her system in one quick motion, cutting off any further questioning. “Anyway, you should have a look at the second BD, though it’s messier than the first one.”</p>
<p>“Okay.” V put the wreath back in place, torn between dreading the sickness and anticipating additional intel. “Ready.”</p>
<p>The second digital scene was of Evelyn stepping out for a smoke, her golden fingertips shining in the moonlight. She seemed to catch the mystery woman on the holo, down a staircase in some gloomy alleyway. Hard to tell if it was simply out of coincidence, luck, or somethin’ else. Judy was right, this recording was messier—image out of focus, with missing frames glitching in and out of view, and the sound distorted and untranslated. Mystery woman was now fluently speaking in Haitian Creole, and while Judy was setting up the auto-translator, V busied herself with tuning in to the phone’s frequency.</p>
<p>Turned out Mystery Woman was vouching for Evelyn, or at least, insisting she was their only way to Yorinobu despite the risks. Guy on the other end didn’t seem convinced. Mentioned something else, something that threw a bucket of ice water down V’s back.</p>
<p>“<em>I wish I shared your confidence that Silverhand will lead us to Alt. </em>”</p>
<p>Like a bucket of freezing water thrown to her face, V felt her blood halt in her veins. She prodded Johnny for a comment, an answer—anything, really. But he stayed quiet and tucked away in her mind. The name ‘Alt’ sounded vaguely familiar. Maybe Johnny had mentioned it once or twice when talking—in explicit details—of his former lovers.</p>
<p>Judy disconnected the link as the BD ended. The dark room came back into focus—ripped Bushido poster, beaded curtain, Johnny’s shape glitching in and out of existence. </p>
<p>“I don’t get it,” Judy mused, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees. “What’s this have to do with Johnny Silverhand? He died like...forever ago.”</p>
<p>V bit her tongue, her gaze itching to look over at Johnny, who had stuffed a cig in between his lips. Seemed he was gonna let her handle this one on her own. </p>
<p>“Actually—”</p>
<p>A sudden thump came from the other room, startling both women. But the pounding didn’t stop there. Something kept smashing into the wall, so hard it made Judy’s computerized system shake.</p>
<p>“Fuck!” Judy flew out of her desk chair and sprinted to the room in question: the adjacent bedroom. V followed, not that she needed to witness the sight to paint a clear picture of what was going down on the other side of that wall.</p>
<p>Seeing Evelyn repeatedly banging her own head into the wall was sickening. She did it without hesitation, her face expressionless as if her mind didn’t belong to her no more, blood staining the white paint. V’s breath got caught in her throat as a particular image flashed before her eyes, one of Johnny taking control of her body and smashing <em> her </em>head in the glass window with the clear intent to end it. It brought back the nausea so urgently, V had to push back the need to look for a bucket and puke out the pancakes she’d had for breakfast.</p>
<p>“Evelyn! Stop!” Judy rushed to the madwoman’s side and held her back. Evelyn’s tensed limbs went limp as a result, giving in as soon as Judy’s skin had touched hers. Her eyes remained open, staring somewhere that didn’t exist. Awfully evocative of herself, V couldn’t help but think as she swallowed the lump in her throat—an attempt to push the bile down. Lines deepened on Judy’s forehead as she examined Evelyns’ self-inflicted injury, like the concern was forever imprinted on her features.</p>
<p>Evelyn allowed herself to be placed back on the mattress, the sudden need to end her life now vanished and replaced by sheer emptiness. V suddenly felt out of line, there was no way her being here and going through old virtus of Evelyn’s memories was helping Judy cope with this shitstorm. </p>
<p>“Does she...often have those types to freak outs?”</p>
<p>Judy’s eyes didn’t leave Evelyn as she brushed a hand across her forehead, pushing the bangs away from the blood. She opened the drawer to the nightstand and pulled out a first-aid kit.</p>
<p>“Only once before,” she answered, sniffing. “Started scratching herself so hard, thought she wouldn’t stop until she’d successfully peel off her own skin.”</p>
<p>V inhaled sharply, the sound similar to a hiss. “Goddamn, Judy…”</p>
<p>“I know, V!” Judy’s voice was so hard and so heartbroken, it felt like a slap in the face. “I fucking know, okay? I just...I can’t give up on her. I <em> won’t </em>.”</p>
<p>She began dabbing an isopropyl alcohol swab on Evelyn’s temple, disinfecting and washing the blood away as if hoping it would somehow erase the event altogether. V looked down, sighing.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry, Judy. I really am.” Guilt tried to nibble at her heart. Maybe she’d made things worse for them, by asking Judy to play around in Evelyn’s head. “Listen, it’s not much, but I’ll give you the name of my ripperdoc.” Judy’s hand stilled, and she turned her head slowly. “He’s one of the good ones. You ever worried about Evelyn, you call ‘im. He’ll take care of her.”</p>
<p>Judy’s eyes flashed blue as she accepted the detes, but her lips remained tight. V slowly backed through the doorway, knowing she’d disturbed Judy enough for a lifetime. With the intel gathered from the two BDs, V had a new lead; she could manage on her own from here.</p>
<p>“V.” Judy stopped her before she could get out of sight—dilated, soulful brown eyes meeting hers. “Thank you. I’ll contact you if I find anything else.”</p>
<p>V nodded, prayed to whoever was up there for Evelyn’s soul to be saved.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Extracurricular</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Apologies for the mini hiatus and for posting this chapter late, been going through some health stuff and had other writing projects to focus on. However, we should now be back on schedule. Hope you enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
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  <strong>◾9: EXTRACURRICULAR◾</strong>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>V jogged down the stairs while leaving Judy’s apartment building, nearly tripping over some random guy sprawled out in the so-called lobby. She bit back a groan, making a beeline for the nearest, deserted alleyway, in a hurry to confront the man inside her head.</p><p>“You got some explainin’ to do.”</p><p>As though a little devil summoned by brainpower, Johnny appeared in front of her. “The fuck’d I do now?”</p><p>“Alt?” V suggested, crossing her arms over her chest. “Made it seem like she was nothin’ more than a plain ol’ ex-girlfriend.”</p><p>Johnny scratched his boot on the broken asphalt, even though there was nothing beneath the sole. Probably a tic he’d picked up when he started smoking, because it seemed to trigger his addiction—a cig materialized in between his fingertip, instantly lit up by a lighter that wasn’t really there, either. “Look, if you expect me to open up and pour my goddamn heart out, you’re wasting your fuckin’ time. Alt was a netrunner. Night City’s best, prolly to this day. And before you ask, I got no fuckin’ clue what they want with her.”</p><p>V blinked, the anger she’d felt building up mysteriously melting away. She chewed on her tongue, then released a harsh sigh as she rubbed her temples. It was barely 11 a.m. and she was already riding a rollercoaster of emotions—impatience, frustration, gloom, anger. Since when had she become a ball of emotional turmoil?</p><p>“Got no notion whatsoever?”</p><p>Johnny took a long drag, looking like he wished the smoke would swallow him whole. “How the hell should I know? I’ve been dead the last half-century. Sorry if I can’t hand you all the answers on a chrome fuckin’ platter when you snap your precious fingers.”</p><p>Guess that answer was Johnny Silverhand’s way of saying no. V stuck to rolling her eyes—last thing she wanted was to aggravate him any more than she’d already did. Strangely, when Johnny lost his cool, V often found herself regaining composure. Feeling more in control. Maybe it was that human instinct coming into play, the one when you see someone else freak out in front of you and you instantly feel calmer as a result. Or maybe it brought her an odd, kinda fucked up kind of comfort, one that reminded her she wasn’t really alone in this mess.</p><p>“One way or another,” Johnny carried on, which surprised her. “Everythin’ leads back to that netrunner. The one in Pacifica, from the looks of it.” He exhaled in a vast cloud of smoke, the illusion so believable V could practically smell the tobacco. “Finding her’s a priority.”</p><p>Looking to the side, V followed a line of graffiti with her eyes as her thoughts competed in a race of their own. The lines of sprayed paint met to form a dick and balls, but V didn’t see it. “And what of Takemura? Hellman?”</p><p>“Pfft,” Johnny spat on the pavement, but his saliva left no trace. “Fuck those guys. Haven’t heard a fuckin’ whisper since you left Sunset Motel.” He flicked his cig in the air. “And not like we can trust corpo-scum anyway.”</p><p>V dug the crown of her teeth into her tongue, torn. Before the chip, making decisions had always been easy, almost too much so—born a Nomad, follow the family, leave the Bakkers, partner up with Jackie. </p><p>Survive.</p><p>But with this, she was at a full on fucking impasse. And Johnny’s guess was as good as hers.</p><p>“Fine,” she groaned, willing her jaw to leave her poor tongue alone. It’d be nothing but a bundle of mangled muscle if she kept going. “We’ll look into that netrunner while waitin’ for Takemura’s call.”</p><p>Johnny huffed, not fully satisfied with that answer of not cutting ties with the corpo lead. Ignoring his discontentment, V went through her long list of contact to ring someone she’d barely even spoken two words to.</p><p>He picked up on the fourth and last ring, right before the call disconnected. </p><p>“V,” surprise colored his voice. What’s shakin’, sweetheart?”</p><p>She paid no mind to the pet name. “Need to make contact with the Voodoo Boys.”</p><p>Mr. Hands laughed, and true to his name, the sight stayed hidden in the shadows. “All right, all right. Straight to heavy business, huh?”</p><p>“Was led to believe you could arrange anything.” </p><p>He laughed again, this time loud and obnoxious. “Hah! Now that sounds like my third wife every time she wanted a new purse.”</p><p>V frowned as she made her way out of the alleyway and onto the sidewalk, walking to her Kusanagi right across the street. She wasn’t in the mood for anecdotes and bullshit stalling. “So what, you sayin’ you can’t swing it?”</p><p>Seemed like her words were a needle popping his bubble of positivity. He toned down the happy-go-lucky attitude. “Listen, V. VDBs all got dirigible-sized egos, their chiefs won’t even talk to lowly me.” His sarcasm was thick, but it got his point across. “Though, honestly? Wouldn’t get you in even if I could. Pacifica’s its own thing, sweetheart. Can’t expect your street cred to translate to this turf.”</p><p>Swinging a leg over her bike, V gripped the handlebars and squeezed to keep herself from spitting out curses left and right. Today was not the greatest day to test her patience, or Johnny’s patience, for that matter. </p><p>“What if I say I got somethin’ they want?”</p><p>Mr. Hands scoffed, the chrome of his mantis blade arms catching the light as he dropped his hands on some unknown surface—most likely a desk or a poker table, if V had to guess.</p><p>“Wanna sell somethin’ to the VDBs? Trust me kid—they don’t want it, they don’t need it.”</p><p>With a misplaced ‘fuck off’ about to slip right out, V gritted her teeth. “Trust <em> me </em>, they want this.”</p><p>Evidently, it would take more than that to convince him. “Sorry, V.” He shrugged. “Not how biz works here.”</p><p>“C’mon, can’t you throw me a bone here?” Fuck, she hated sounding so desperate. “This is important.”</p><p>He sighed loudly, a little dramatic. “Jesus, V. You really don’t give up, do ya?” He drummed his fingers, decorated with silver and garnet rings, on that mysterious surface. A deck of cards peeked out the right corner of the screen. “Tell you what, I’ll ask around. Only cause I heard good things about you. But remember—just because ya got rep in NC doesn’t mean you do in Pacifica.”</p><p>“Thanks.” V exhaled with relief. “And I’ll try to keep that in mind.”</p><p>She hung up and turned the bike’s ignition on. Johnny’s relief was palpable when she put in new coordinates and adjusted her itinerary—1.9 km to Pacifica.</p><p>Blind trust had never been one of her strong suits. She’d wait on her new fixer to get back to her, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t take that field trip into her own hands, now did it?</p><p> </p><p>✕</p><p>
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</p><p>Pacifica was both turned upside down and untouched since the last time she’d passed through. Run-down apartment buildings, abandoned shops and rusted infrastructures were still the same, yet somehow, in even worse shape than she’d remembered. Flies buzzed around a trash can filled with what seemed like rotting meat. Moldy mattresses and ripped clothing turned into a makeshift shelter for a homeless man, coughing up phlegm as black as chimney soot. A child strolled down the sidewalk, juggling a small revolver as if it were a fucking tennis ball. Anarchic misery still crowded the streets, but no one cared to notice.</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Alright, if I were a creepy netrunning cult, where would I set up camp? </em>”</p><p>Johnny’s breath echoed in her ears, sounding so close V swore she felt his beard graze the nape of her neck. “<em>Where no one can find ya. </em>”</p><p>He was right, of course. V didn’t expect her hunt to be a piece of cake—if that woman was as good a netrunner as Judy had set her up to be and if the VDBs were as isolated as Mr. Hands had said, finding them would prove harder than breaking into Yorinobu Arasaka’s fucking penthouse.</p><p>Regardless, her race against time screamed louder than the voice of reason, and V made up her mind—she wouldn’t turn around until she’d at least tried.</p><p>“<em>VDBs are a religious bunch o’ fuckers, aren’t they? </em> ” Johnny chimed in. “<em>Should start by checkin’ out churches or temples or wherever the hell they practice their juju. </em>”</p><p>“<em>Hm </em> ,” V considered his suggestion. “ <em> Y’know what, not a terrible idea, for a change </em>.”</p><p>“<em>Dunno why you sound surprised. Lost count of the amount’a times I saved your boney ass. </em>”</p><p>V mentally flipped him off, but the amusement playing in her eyes was undisputable. She did her quick research and ended up parking in the heart of Coastview, walking distance from the closest Church that popped up on her radar. </p><p>She tried pushing the door open first, the sound of a locked hatch bouncing back in her face. Weird. Weren’t churches always left open to the public? V looked up at the neon sign, as small and easy to miss as it was—Pacifica Serenity Bible Church, closed for funeral preparation.</p><p>Ah.</p><p>“<em>Tough luck. </em>”</p><p>V backed up, a smirk creeping up on her lips. “<em>If you think a locked door’s gonna stop me, then even the man in my head doesn’t know me as well as I thought. </em>”</p><p>“<em>Please.” </em> She could practically see his dirt-clogged nails flick ashes her way. “<em>You’re an open book. </em>” </p><p>No one even grew suspicious of V when she slipped into the shadows by the side of the buildings, too busy selling drugs, aimlessly dragging their feet or whatever the hell anyone did in Pacifica. This place was surreal, even more so than the rest of NC, like a fever dream you can’t wake up from. The early afternoon heat didn’t help, only made the smell of burnt rubber and soiled skin so potent it had V’s head spinning. Luckily for her, she had extensive experience with ignoring the repellent odors of the city. <em> Welcome to the City of Dreams, </em> the tourist guide greeted newcomers like a salesman. <em> Scorched nostrils guaranteed and lung cancer included! </em></p><p>Using her kiroshis to hack into a locked window proved futile—the security code was far beyond her reach. Most places in NC were a breeze to crack through, created by self-proclaimed netrunners who lacked skills and made a living by selling ripped-off BDs on the street. Needless to say, this one left V hanging high and dry, a frown taking over her face.</p><p>But then she put two and two together, and the frown cleared up like clouds on a sunny summer day. An impregnable wall of coding meant one and only thing—netrunners ran this place. Damn good ones.</p><p>Bingo.</p><p>“<em>So what, you gonna come flyin’ through the ceiling instead? </em>”</p><p>V’s fingers itched to take hold of Chaos and just blow the goddamn window open, but she bided her time. She knew better than to attract attention to herself, to fall prey to naivety. Instead, she walked to the back of the building and jumped from an unowned set of wheels to the fire escape, then climbed until she reached the rooftop—deserted and decrepit. There were about a handful of holes, perhaps the aftermath of recklessly-thrown grenades, half-assedly covered with 2x4 planks and polycarbonate sheets. It would be a miracle for this place to survive flooding, or even some kind of toxic mold growth.</p><p>For such a faulty patch-up job, it certainly was anchored in place. When using her bare hands proved fruitless—she was left with a cocky splinter as a souvenir—V finally gave in to the temptation to grab Chaos and, with the silencer safely in place, fired it at each and every bolt.</p><p>She was careful when removing the makeshift piece of roofing, pushed it aside and peered inside the building to scan the room it led to. It seemed to be some kind of storage room, shelves decorated with thick candles, wood-carved figurines, crafted jewelry and white crosses. V swung her legs over the opening in the ceiling and jumped in, landing on the dusty floor with a quiet thump.</p><p>She’d encountered enough netrunners in her early merc days to know their tendencies like the inside of her own pocket. Netrunners were creatures of darkness—they had lairs, to their own or shared with others of their own kind, where they spent days on end traveling through cyberspace. They didn’t have any perception of time and only rarely stepped under the sunlight, instead crawled through lines of codes like warmth-seeking centipedes. Their reality was completely different, and more often than not, that was a red flag.</p><p>If there was somewhere to look for netrunners, it was the underground.</p><p>V stepped out of the room and came face to face with an old set of stairs. The wood creaked under her weight and she held her breath with each step, scanning the surroundings far more than she’d normally do. Not like she could feign stupidity and pretend to have lost her way to the bathroom if she got caught—in here, she practically stood out like a fucking sore thumb.</p><p>Still, no way in hell she was turning back now. With steady, silent footfalls, V walked deeper into the building, the air somehow humid on her skin but painfully dry as she breathed it in—that toxic mold theory becoming more and more plausible. When she got to the ground floor, the atmosphere completely shifted. The flea-bitten walls, mothball smell and religious ornaments were gone, replaced by freshly painted walls, pillars and high ceiling, almost as if this level had been constructed later on. Strange.</p><p>Spotting a camera in the far corner, V gave another attempt at quickhacking and deactivating it, to no avail. She resorted to averting her eyes and tilted her head, hoping surveillance would somehow miss the fact that she was clearly breaking in. The room on the first floor was dipped in black, veve symbols both carved into the walls and flashing across the ceiling with red holograms. Opened buckets of white paint littered the floor, purposefully positioned by the pillars as though in preparation for a scheduled ceremony. </p><p>Over in the back of the room sat the centered altar. Ornaments similar to the ones she’d seen upstairs filled up the space along with the memorial picture of a man, highlighting the entire setup. Although similar in structure, V could tell this chapel wasn’t the one from that BD Judy had fished out of Evelyn’s brain.</p><p>Making her way to the other side of the room, V froze when she perceived a couple of arguing voices that seemed to originate from lower down. She waited a beat or two, only exhaling after the voices got harder and harder to hear, most likely retreating to an even lower floor. One she needed to reach prompto. </p><p>With a hand secured on Chaos, V moved again, slipping past the nave and into a narrow hallway. The sight was unexpected—hundreds of framed tarot cards nailed to the walls, up so high it felt like she was being cornered. At the end of the corridor, candles lit up in weak flames crowded the surface of a table, as well as necklaces of plucked feathers and cut-off chicken feet. V swallowed, the gravel of earlier stubbornly lingering, and made her way forward. </p><p>Flies buzzed around her ears, so annoying she almost felt the need to slap a few of them away. She approached the table with cautious steps, her senses on high alert, and eventually laid eyes on the object of the flies’ affection; a handful of bare chicken, heads and legs chopped off and dumped in a bucket.</p><p>“Offerings.”</p><p>The sudden voice made V’s heart nearly jump out of her chest and she whipped around, eyes sharp and Chaos raised at the new target. She blinked, taking in the sight of a child, sitting in the shadows with his skinny arms around his knees and a hood covering his face. His eyes were milky white and his darker skin sticky with grime, noticeable even from where she was standing. V hesitated, half-lowering her aimed weapon.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>He looked at her, even though his eyes didn’t. “The chickens. They’re offerings.” </p><p>The child spoke with an accent so thick, V almost didn’t understand the english words hiding beneath those vast layers of Haitian roots.</p><p>She lowered her gun all the way down, but kept her finger ready, just in case. “What’s a child doin’ in here?”</p><p>The kid thinned his lips, scratching off a scab which immediately started bleeding down his shin. “My papa. It is his funeral.”</p><p>V felt her brow twitch. She thought back to the man whose face lay in the picture frame, frozen in time for all eternity, and her grip on Chaos slackened.</p><p>“I’m sorry.”</p><p>He didn’t answer. Didn’t move nor blink, standing so still V momentarily wondered if he’d stopped breathing. Wondered if all of this was truly a fever dream. Or an elaborate scheme to taunt her. Was the person residing in her head multiplying, sprouting different personalities like he did vendettas? </p><p>Luckily for V’s sanity, the child spoke. “You’re an outsider. Shouldn’t be here.”</p><p>V weighed her options. On one side, she could listen to this blind, strangely perceptive child and delta out, or she could keep pushing while she still had the rope in her hands.</p><p>If she was smart, she’d go with option number one. Alas, in her current situation, she didn’t have the luxury of making a real choice. Only the illusion of one.</p><p>“I need to get in touch with the Voodoo Boys.” She said, her voice unwavering. “It’s important.”</p><p>The boy grimaced suddenly, started shaking his head weakly like he was disappointed with her. “They are listening, always.” The hairs on V’s neck raised with unwarranted attention from another camera, one she hadn’t even noticed coming in. Its blue light turned red just as the boy murmured. “You made a mistake.”</p><p>Heavy and hurried footsteps resonated from downstairs, causing V to back away while searching the kid’s face for any indication that this might’ve been a setup from the beginning. She didn’t find any, if anything, he seemed to genuinely feel bad for whatever fate she was about to meet.</p><p>She hesitated for a splint second. Running away while being so close to her goal was frustrating to say the least, left a bad taste in her mouth and had Johnny grumbling in her head, but she couldn’t shake that bad feeling—the one telling her she shouldn’t have started messing with the VDB’s shit or invited herself into their turf in the first place. And taking into account that she didn’t scare easy, this feeling of hers wasn’t to be ignored.</p><p>V turned around, planning to slip out the same way she came through that undignified hole in the rooftop. Somehow—and don’t even ask her how the fuck he managed to appear out of thin air—she came face to face with a wall of muscle blocking the old stairway, his neck larger than her fucking waist and the look in his eyes devoid of any patience.</p><p>Instincts kicking in, V slid backwards with a scrape of her boots, raising Chaos once again and pointing it at the huscle’s head. He didn’t flinch, only lowered his eyes to her weapon and frowned almost imperceptibly.</p><p>“This is a sacred place.” Another man’s voice came from behind her, making her whisk her head around. How quiet were these guys that they’d surprised her not once, but three times already? Had they spent so much damn time underground, they’d learn how to be as quiet as insects? “You don’t raise your weapon in here.”</p><p>Again, the heavy Creole accent flowed with every word. This guy was much smaller than his choom, small enough for V to kick his ass and make him eat dirt, but her right shoulder throbbed and protested and the idea of close-contact. It was still sore from yesterday, reminding her she wasn’t in the best shape to fight.</p><p>She angled her chin to the big guy and the bat in his hand. “And I’m guessin’ that rule don’t apply to your people?”</p><p>The scrawny one narrowed his eyes. <em> Insolence </em>, they seemed to hiss. “We do what we have to when outsiders threaten our peace.”</p><p>Peace… That peace didn’t exist anywhere outside these walls, V wanted to bark back, but didn’t.</p><p>“<em>V, delta the fuck outta there </em> ,” Johnny suddenly warned. “ <em> Got a bad feelin’. </em>”</p><p>“<em>I’m tryin’. </em>”</p><p>V lowered Chaos, holding up her hands in a gesture of surrender, though her finger didn’t stray too far away from the trigger. “Look, I didn’t mean any disrespect and didn’t want to cause any trouble. Just need to get in touch with the Voodoo Boys. It’s a matter of life or death.”</p><p>“The ‘<em> Voodoo Boys’ </em> are not interested.”</p><p>She sucked in a breath, feeling her dislike for Pacifica grow tenfold. “Well maybe I’d rather hear this from them directly.”</p><p>“Trust me,” the guy cocked his head—a signal to his choom. “You already did.”</p><p>The sight of the huscle suddenly moving happened so fast, it was nothing but a blur. V crouched and dodged the massive fist he threw at her face, getting Chaos into position to fire at something, anything, as long as it would win her enough time to get the upper hand. The bullet hit the guy’s leg with a dull sound of iron hitting flesh, but it didn’t seem enough to slow him down because the next thing V saw was his bat being raised in the air. It came down too fast to dodge this time, hitting her in the back of her head before everything went black.</p><p>“Mennen li ale byen lwen, le sa a touye li.”</p><p>Johnny roared at her, screamed and urged her to move but she couldn’t even muster a word. “<em>V! Get up goddamn it, get the fuck up! </em>”</p><p>Her kiroshis flashed the automatic translation right as V began to lose grasp of her consciousness.</p><p>
  <b>Get her far away, then kill her.</b>
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